


How to Treat Your Lover - Book 3

by tamibrandt



Series: How to Treat Your Lover Saga [3]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 198,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamibrandt/pseuds/tamibrandt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)<br/>Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair.  Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 34-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17 WARNING: Angel/Spike/Fred friendship in this chapter.

##  _Chapter 34-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 1)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Fred carefully ventured out of her room on the third floor down the hall from Angel’s room. It had been vacant since the dark vampire became worried over someone named Spike - his mate, Cordelia said – and left them immediately. She hadn’t heard or seen anything of him. Fred quietly snuck down to the second floor and peeked around the corner of the corridor overlooking the lobby. Her eyes widened when she heard Cordelia’s voice echoing from the hotel’s courtyard entrance and she quickly disappeared back up to her room again. 

“I can understand people who drink too much. I understand people who put a little note on the parking meter that says it’s broken when it’s not. I don’t understand people who worship demons,” Cordelia said with a shudder. 

Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley walked across the courtyard, carrying weapons and appeared slightly disheveled. 

“Yeah,” Gunn agreed. “Especially Lu-rite demons, the stink on that thing . . . If you’re a prince of the underworld, bro, take a Jacuzzi every once in a while.” 

“It’s sad really. The only way some people can find a purpose in life is by becoming obsessed with demons,” Wesley said and then felt he should correct Gunn’s grammar. “By the way, technically that wasn’t a Lu-rite. It was a Mu-rite, a subspecies of the Lu-rite. The male sports a small, telltale fin just behind the third shoulder.” 

Gunn rolled his eyes and headed for the weapons cabinet to grab a bottle of cleaner and a rag. “I’m so glad to know we’re not the sad people obsessed with demons.” 

“We have to be a little obsessed. We’re detectives that specialize in these things,” Wesley whined. 

“And we’re not sad,” Cordelia commented sardonically. 

“No. No, we’re a happy and rambunctious lot if I ever saw one,” Wesley said with a satisfied smile. When Gunn and Cordelia just looked at him, Wesley frowned. “Not going to humor me even a little, are you?” 

“Huh-uh,” Cordelia shook her head slowly. 

“Well, I realize that we sacrifice a great deal of our,” Wesley winced, “social lives. But we have to. Our work demands it.” 

“True. I mean, who has time for love when you’re out there doing it with the demons?” Gunn said offhandedly as he cleaned his weapon. When Wesley glanced in his direction, Gunn realized what he said. “Didn’t that come out sad and wrong? I need to get out more. Speaking of: anyone talked to Fred lately?” 

Cordelia sat down on the round settee and laid back, molding herself around the backrest. “Not talked, glimpsed, maybe. She pokes her head out of her room every once in a while.” 

“Nice girl,” Wesley said wistfully as he looked up at the second floor balcony. 

Cordelia sighed tiredly. “Nice, but she’s not making the giant strides towards mental health. She’s been hibernating up there for three months now.” 

“Ever since Angel went away,” Wesley mused. “She’s become quite attached to him.” 

“Angel groupie. I get that,” Gunn shrugged. “He rescued her from Pylea.” 

Cordelia sat up, looking glum. “I miss Pylea.” 

“I would think you might. You were there a week, they made you queen,” Wesley pointed out. “Fred was there for five years. She was a slave, a runaway. They nearly chopped her head off. All those years she spent hiding out alone in that cave.” 

Gunn nodded. “She survived. The girl’s strong.” 

Cordelia looked at them as if they’d lost it. “The girl’s trading one cave for another. How strong is that?” 

“Well, when Angel comes back . . .” Wesley started to say. 

“When _is_ he coming back, anyway?” Gunn cut in. “I wonder if he’s got Spike with him. ’Cause, you know, Sunnydale doesn’t sound like it would be the best vacation spot being that it’s over a Hellmouth.” 

“As soon as he works through his grief a little,” Cordelia replied as she got up and went to her desk to look over a case file. 

“A little?” Gunn asked skeptically. “Buff--” 

“Don’t!” Cordelia said, walking up to the reception desk and glaring at Gunn. “Say the ‘B’ word.” 

“The ‘B’ word was the love of his life, and he’s what . . . two hundred and fifty? That isn’t a short life. That grief work is going to take more than a vacation in Sri Lanka.” 

“It isn’t a vacation. It’s a spiritual retreat at a monastery,” Wesley corrected him. 

“Hmm. Angel and a bunch of monks in the middle of nowhere, now there’s a party! If Spike’s with him, that boy must be bored out of his mind,” Gunn said. 

**************************

**_Sri Lanka, Tibetan Monastery_**

Angel and Spike, dressed in white robes, were fighting against armed, red robbed monks in the hall of the monastery. Angel was attacked from behind. He turned, grabbing the monk’s wooden staff, only to be attacked on the other side by another monk. He kicked the first monk away, releasing the staff. Then, he kicked out at the second monk, grabbing the man’s staff and hitting him in the face with it. He turned to see that the first monk was back on his feet. Angel hit him with the staff and knocked his legs out from under him again. 

Spike had his own problems. A monk swung his wooden staff at him and when he jumped back to dodge it, he slammed against a pillar and fell forward, lying flat on the ground. The monk used the opportunity to attack, swinging the staff down as if he were going to stake Spike. Spike rolled to his back, grabbed the wooden staff and pulled down along the length of his body. He jerked the staff back into the monk and then forward again, causing the monk to catapult over him and into the wall. Then, with staff in hand, he rolled to his feet. 

Another monk did a flip and hit Angel across the face with his feet, landing in a fighting stance. He swung his staff into Angel’s midsection, forcing the vampire to back up against the wall. Angel grabbed an overhead beam and swung his feet out, kicking the monk in the face and knocked him backwards. 

Still hanging from the beam, Angel somersaulted up to the top level. With a hand balanced on the balcony railing, he hit another monk, knocking him out of the way. He jumped over the balcony onto firmer ground and hit the monk when the man came back for more. Angel grabbed the monk’s collar and threw him into a slat in the balcony, breaking the wood as he fell through and onto the ground below. 

Spike took the chance to glance up and Angel smirked at him before jumping down to the ground floor. Spike had just knocked out his opponent when the double doors opened. They stepped out and found men wearing gray robes. 

“What happened?” the Monk asked in Tibetan when he saw the bodies on the floor. 

“Demon monks. I should’ve gone to Vegas,” Angel replied in Tibetan. 

The man looked at Angel strangely as the vampires walked past him. Then, he looked in through the open doors to see at least ten red-robbed bodies littering the floor. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“He should have gotten hammered and went to Vegas like I told him,” Gunn was saying. 

Wesley gave Gunn a harried expression. “He doesn’t need a lap dance. He needs some peace and quiet to work through his grief.” 

**************************

**_Las Vegas, Cheetahs Topless Gentleman’s Club_**

Women danced around in next to nothing on a catwalk stage. There were life-size bird cages on either side of the stage, each with a topless girl in a g-string. Spike and Angel sat at the end of the catwalk, waving money at the gorgeous brunette that was currently slinking her way towards them across the stage on her stomach. 

“This is the best idea you’ve had in the last two months,” Spike yelled over the rock music. 

“It just came to me when we flew over the Nevada border!” Angel yelled back. 

When the girl finally made it over to them, she twisted around to sit on the edge of the stage with her legs crossed. Spike swiped the ten-dollar bill out of Angel’s hand and added it to his own. Then, he leaned over and tucked them in the barely-there string on her hip. 

“Hey, pet, how much to do a lap dance for a grieving friend?” Spike asked with a smirk. 

“Depends, are you the one grieving?” she teased. 

Spike placed his hand over his heart and made a face as if he were depressed. “I could only be so lucky, princess.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, a day later_**

Cordelia walked into the lobby with a couple of mousetraps. “So, whose turn is it to set the traps?” 

“His,” Wesley and Gunn chorused, pointing at each other. 

Cordelia shook her head. “You guys amaze me. You’ll fight hell-beasts, but you’re scared of rats.” 

Gunn shuddered. “Man, I hate rats. With their little beady eyes . . .” 

“. . . and their beady teeth,” Wesley added. 

“And their little tails going all whoosh, whoosh,” Gunn grimaced. 

As Cordelia walked towards the basement door, she threw over her shoulder, “Well, aren’t you two just biggest scared-ies I ever saw . . .” 

Cordelia dropped the traps with a scream as the door suddenly opened just as she reached for the handle. Angel stood there with a little smile on his face. 

“You’re back!” Cordelia cried as she hugged him. 

Gunn and Wesley dropped their weapons and followed the sound of Cordelia’s scream, both with bright smiles. 

“You guys, he’s back!” Cordelia said. 

“You might want to move your ass, ponce, these bags are getting heavy,” Spike said behind Angel. 

Cordelia pulled Angel out of the way and screeched again when she saw Spike. She threw herself at the blonde vampire, wrapping her arms around his neck. With the weight of the duffle bags slung over his shoulders and Cordelia’s momentum, both vampire and exuberant girl nearly fell backwards down the stairs. It was only Spike’s quick reflex to grab onto either side of the doorjamb that kept them from toppling over. He knocked his head as the basement door came back on its spring-loaded hinge. 

“It’s good to see you too, princess,” Spike choked. 

After a minute, Angel chuckled. “You can let him go now, Cordy. He’ll be staying a while.” 

Cordelia stepped back, releasing Spike. She smoothed out his shirt and dragged him in behind her, grabbing Angel’s wrist as she passed by, leading them to the edge of the lobby with her. When she let go of them, Wesley hugged Angel. 

“Welcome home,” Wesley said. 

Wesley then turned to Spike and clasped the vampire’s wrist in a warrior’s handshake. Gunn greeted Angel with a hug and handshake to Spike as well. 

“Good to see you, blondie,” Gunn said in greeting. 

“So, I hope you had a good retreat,” Cordelia said. Spike and Angel shared a meaningful look, remembering where they’d been. “All peaceful and meditate-y,” she hedged. 

The group walked back into the lobby and gathered around the settee. Spike slung the bags on the settee and immediately searched for a cigarette out of habit. 

Angel scowled at Spike, knowing what he was doing. “Sure, until the monks turned out to be life-sucking Shur-hod demons.” 

“Oh . . .” Wesley sounded interested, his watcher mind always peaked when something new arose. 

“Should have gone to Vegas,” Gunn sing-songed. 

“We did on the way back,” Spike replied. 

“Spike tried to get me a lap dance with a life-draining succubus stripper,” Angel said. 

“She didn’t look like a demon!” Spike said indignantly. 

Angel turned to face his childe. “That was the whole idea, Spike!” 

“Well, how the bloody hell was I supposed to know!” Spike said defensively. 

“She had a sapphire stone medallion hanging on her neck! Or did you manage to look past the double-D breasts?” Angel asked with a raised brow. 

Spike growled. “Bugger!” He shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn’t any importance. “Shame we had to cut off her head to get you out of that trance. She had a nice body.” 

Cordelia cleared her throat at that. “Well, the point is, you worked on things. It wasn’t like a holiday, where you come back to your friends, you know, with some small mementos of your trip . . .” 

Angel looked up from digging around in one of the bags. “Fishing for gifts?” 

“Yes!” Cordelia squealed. Angel handed over a palm-sized skull with a tuft of dark hair on top. She looked at it, her brow wrinkled in distaste. “Oh, a . . . small . . . human head!” 

Angel took it back with a smirk and tossed it to Gunn. The vampire hunter caught it and smiled, “Cool!” 

Angel handed a necklace to Cordelia instead. She gave him a toothpaste commercial smile. “Oh! Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous!” She put it on and modeled it. “And look how it brings out my breasts!” When all four men looked at her, she turned red in embarrassment. “You know you were all thinking it!” 

Angel handed Wesley a sheathed dagger he’d picked up in Sri Lanka. Wesley’s eyes widened as if were Christmas morning. “Uh! Sixteenth century!” He pulled the blade out and waved it around. “Angel! Murshan Dynasty?” Angel nodded as a grin spread across Wesley’s face. “I’ve always wanted one of these! I didn’t think you . . .” He slashed it through the air. “Oh, I can’t wait to kill something with this!” He turned to Cordelia. “Any visions brewing?” She glared at him. 

Angel looked around the lobby. He’d missed the old hotel. It wasn’t so bad with Spike traveling with him. He’d traveled the world with no sense of homesickness. The nature of being a vampire didn’t allow for such frivolities. These days, it seemed that Spike was the equivalent of home for him. As long as he knew where his boy was, Angel was fine. 

“The place looks good,” Angel observed. He looked thoughtfully at the stairs. “How’s Fred?” 

“Good!” Cordelia said all-too-quickly. She tapped Wesley on the chest when it looked like he was going to object. When she got his attention, she motioned for him to shut up. “She’s doing well.” 

“Hasn’t come out of her room yet, huh?” It was more of a statement than a question. 

“Not what you would call frequently. But, we – we sent up a lot of tacos,” Cordelia said. 

“From what I understand, she came back shortly before Angel left,” Spike said. Angel had told him about rescuing the fretful girl from Pylea and how he had immediately left when Willow showed up. “You guys expected her to be fine overnight? Give the girl some time, she’ll come around.” 

“But Spike, it’s been three months!” Cordelia said. 

“Give her time to get her bearings,” Spike said. 

“Well, three months is long enough if you ask me,” Cordelia grumbled. 

Angel turned away from the stairs to look at them. He’d kept half an ear to the conversation. “We’ll settle in and check on her. You guys can bring me up-to-date later.” Spike grabbed his bag while Angel shouldered his own and they headed towards the stairs when the dark vampire turned around again. “It’s really good to see you guys.” 

“Thanks for the head, bro,” Gunn called after them as they walked up the stairs. 

“He seems better than when he left,” Wesley observed. 

“How much you want to bet it had more to do with Spike than your Tibetan retreat with the demon monks?” Gunn asked, juggling his new gift between his hands. 

**************************

Angel walked into his room on the third floor. Spike came in behind him, kicking the door shut. Angel strode into the bedroom, dropped his bag on the bed and set about unpacking. 

“Your drawers are still free, and your side of the closet,” Angel said as he busied himself. 

Spike nodded and unpacked. He reverently hung his duster in the closet on the same hanger as always whenever he was with Angel. He never expected to be with Angel for so long. Ever since his Sire had initiated the claims, Spike had been spending longer and longer periods of time with him. He could honestly say without hesitation that he spent more time with Angel in the last year than he had in the Mansion in Sunnydale. Hell, he’d spent more time with Angel in the last two years than he did in the first twenty years of his existence as a vampire. 

This was starting to become a serious relationship. 

Maybe Angel was telling the truth when he said that he would make it up him. They’d just spent three months traveling to a monastery that Wesley had suggested to grieve for Buffy and back again. They got along surprisingly well the entire time. They had sex on the beach in Cap d'Antibes on the French Riviera and toured Europe for the umpteenth time. Angel picked up souvenirs along the way such as the gifts he gave the gang. They forgot everyone else. There were times when neither of them mentioned Buffy or Darla. It was just the two of them. It reminded Spike of the rare times when he and his Sire hunted together without the girls. When they got to Las Vegas, Spike picked up a nightshirt that said ‘Lucky in Love’ with the Las Vegas welcome sign under it for Fred. It seemed fitting after Angel mentioned that Fred may have a crush on him while they were sharing a Jacuzzi in Reno. 

After unpacking, Spike went into the bathroom. The next thing Angel heard was the shower running. He perked up at that. A shower sounded like a great idea. A nice, hot shower and several hours rest. Angel actually felt relaxed. He hadn’t felt aggressive or possessive around Spike since they left the States. There was an easy camaraderie between them the whole time. But then, Wolfram & Hart wasn’t there to make his life hell. 

As for what drove them to the other side of the world, he felt relieved that Darla wasn’t suffering anymore and Buffy was probably in a better place than he’ll ever be when he’s finally dust. Angel tossed the luggage bags into the closet and headed for the shower. 

He undressed and threw the clothes in the hamper. Spike’s body was a kaleidoscope of pink behind the clear, frosted shower curtain. Angel’s shower was only a typical shower. It wasn’t anything like Spike’s Jacuzzi shower. He stored away the idea of getting one installed here. Spike had gotten him hooked on the pleasures of a Jacuzzi. They were handy after fighting demons all night. 

Angel climbed into the shower behind Spike. The blonde vampire was soaping up a shower scrunchy. Angel took it from him and started scrubbing it over his childe’s body. A few minutes into it, Spike was clawing the wall and gyrating as if he were in heat under his Sire’s ministrations. 

Angel pressed up against Spike’s back and reached around to scrub the mesh ball over the younger vampire’s torso. He wrapped the material around Spike’s semi-erect penis and gave it a few perfunctory strokes, washing it. Then, he knelt down to do the rest. 

“You know, Spike, if you’re going to be spending so much time in L.A. with me, maybe we should start moving some of the stuff to the hotel,” Angel suggested as he scrubbed Spike’s legs. 

Above him, the blonde vampire had his hands on the wall for balance while Angel manhandled him during a thorough scrubbing. He thought about his Sire’s suggestion for a moment. “Well, there’s nothing really keeping me in Sunnydale any longer. It could be an idea.” 

A smile twitched the corner of Angel’s mouth as he continued his task. Spike had agreed to move in . . . sort of. That was a start, right? He’d promised to make it up to Spike for all the bad shit that happened last year. The blonde’s agreement emboldened Angel to continue with other suggestions. 

“Yes and maybe a few more items. Like a Jacuzzi shower fitted, you know for us,” Angel said, looking up at Spike from his crouched position. 

Spike nodded again. “Sounds good. After all, ’S no need for me to go back to Sunnydale now.” He pondered the idea. “And, it would be a shame to waste all those nice things I bought.” 

Angel quickly got to his feet and glared at Spike. “You bought? Don’t you mean that I bought it? You just picked it out. So, they should be here with us now.” 

“Well, if you’re going to be literal about it,” Spike drawled. Angel’s washing left him feeling relaxed and somewhat agreeable. “We can start moving them soon.” 

Angel quickly washed himself. They got out, dried off and climbed into bed naked. Angel tucked Spike between himself and the mattress. It was something he’d done since Spike was a fledgling. There was no need for intercourse to validate what they had. Though, there was plenty of sex on their world tour. Angel was content to have the close intimacy. The purring that rumbled from his diaphragm attested to that. Soon, Spike echoed the purring in his sleep. Knowing his childe and mate was safe, Angel joined Spike in slumber. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, the Hyperion, Dusk_**

Angel drifted back to consciousness with the feeling of Spike’s hand stroking his erection and the soft/rough swipes of his tongue on the tip. Spike’s sex drive had escalated when Angel lost all the tension on the trip. Since then, his boy had done this so much that it became ritual: a leisurely blow job to wake his Sire up followed by a blood breakfast. Pretty nutritious if you asked Angel and Spike still claimed that he was a growing boy. Who was Angel to refuse him a balanced meal? 

After the aforementioned blowjob, Angel returned the favor. They got out of bed, dressed and went downstairs for their blood. When Spike hit the second floor landing, he ran through the halls and down the stairs to the lobby with Angel chasing close behind him. Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia all raised a brow and exchanged a bewildered look at the giggling yelps as Spike and Angel ran past them to the kitchen. 

Spike was the first to get to the kitchen. He yanked the refrigerator door open and pulled out a blood packet. He had enough time to dump the contents in a glass, put said glass in the microwave; punch in the time and press START before Angel caught up with him. He turned around to face Angel just as the dark vampire ran bodily into him, trapping him against the counter. 

“I see you're fixing my breakfast,” Angel said as he peppered nipping kisses over Spike’s jaw. 

“Then you have really poor eyesight, pouf. That’s my breakfast,” Spike said, leaning his head back against the full-length cabinet next to the microwave, allowing Angel access to his neck. 

“Come on, Spikey. You always fixed my breakfast when we were traveling,” Angel teased. 

“No, I didn’t. You just stole it from me,” Spike grumbled. 

Angel pulled back, looking indignant. “I would _never_ do such a thing.” 

“Steal my virginity. Steal my girl. Steal my blood. Steal my breakfast. Not necessarily in that order,” Spike commented. 

Angel settled his hands on Spike’s waist, pressing his renewed erection against the equally hard length in Spike’s jeans. “You may have a point with stealing your blood and maybe your virginity. But then, you didn’t put up much of a fight. Did you, Will? As for the girl, you know how flighty Dru can be.” 

Just then, the microwave dinged. Angel quickly nabbed the glass of blood and took the first sip. 

“Hey! That’s mine you ponce.” 

When Spike tried reaching for it, Angel held it back. “Ah, ah, ah, have to learn to share.” 

Spike smirked and tried to reach for it again. His fingers collided with Angel moving the glass out of the way and the liquid spilled all over them. Had it happened a year ago, Angel would have been pissed at the mess they made. Now, Angel gave Spike a critical look and burst out laughing. 

“What the bleeding hell are you laughing at?” Spike growled. He looked like a drowned rat if water were red instead of clear. 

“You. Look. Adorable,” Angel said haltingly through a fit of laughter. “Oh God, my sides are starting to hurt.” 

“I am not adorable! I’m covered in animal blood and so are you, pillock,” Spike ground out. 

“Can’t say much can be done about the hair, but hey . . . the blonde looks good with strawberry highlights,” Angel observed. That comment earned him a growl. “And the guys can’t say that you’re white as a ghost anymore. And --” He was cut off when Spike pounced on him, knocking them both to the floor. 

Outside in the lobby, the gang heard a crashing sound and then more sounds of things being knocked over. Their interest was peaked enough to investigate the noises. They bumped into each other rushing to the kitchen. For all they knew, Angel and Spike were fighting a demon that came up from the sewer access in the kitchen floor. When they got there, they didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgusted. There was blood everywhere with two laughing vampires rolling around in it. 

“Okay, now that’s disgusting,” Gunn commented as he looked around at the blood that now painted the cabinets and stove. 

“It is a rather odd sight. I mean who knew Angel could laugh like that,” Wesley said as he watched Angel and Spike wrestle in the blood. 

“I think my mind is scarred for life. I’m now forever doomed to dream about naked vampire blood wrestling along with the mind-numbing visions. Maybe they’ll screw up all the visions I have from now on,” Cordelia said. 

Angel finally gained purchase on the blood-slick floor and pinned Spike down. That was when he noticed the audience. He was so intent on licking the blood off of his mate that he didn’t hear them come in or what they said. 

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Angel asked nonchalantly as he looked up from pining Spike to the floor. With the blood slicking the surface, Spike was still able to squirm under him. 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Cordelia replied. 

“Uhm, Breakfast?” Angel suggested for an answer. 

“No thanks, man,” Gunn replied, cringing at the idea after seeing all the blood. 

Angel looked around, observing the mess. “Yeah, Spike and I will clean this up--” 

“Me!? This is your fault, not mine!” Spike disputed. 

Angel tightened his hold on the blonde vampire and repeated through clenched teeth, “As I said, we’ll clean it up.” 

The vampires got up off the floor. Under Cordelia’s watchful eye, they found the cleaning supplies and started to clean the blood off the cabinets. When the humans were gone, Angel looked to see where Cordelia was. Discovering that he was in the clear, he sat down at the blood-free island and watched Spike’s ass move as he worked at scrubbing blood off the stove. 

“Too bad you don’t move like that in bed,” Angel teased. He winked when Spike turned to glare at him. In response, he got the British two-fingered salute as the blonde went back to working. 

“You know, when you told Queen C that we were cleaning this up, I thought the ‘ _we’_ also meant _you_ ,” Spike said over his shoulder. 

“Why would I do that when I have a pretty little chambermaid,” Angel smirked. 

“Sod off, pillock,” Spike grumbled. He stopped cleaning and walked out of the kitchen, rag still in hand. “I’m going to wash this shit out of my hair.” 

Angel leaned back in his chair and called out, “Oh come on, Spike. Don’t be like that!” That was answered with the bloody rag thrown at him from the lobby. Angel chuckled and proceeded to clean the kitchen. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Fred’s Suite_**

Fred was in her room writing ‘Listen, Listen’ on the walls repetitively and muttering to herself, “Listen. Listen. Listen.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded on the door. 

Thinking that it was Cordelia, Gunn or Wesley, she called out, “Oh. Hi! How are you? I’m just fine. Doing real good here, no need to worry about me, but thanks for checking!” 

She went back to writing when Angel called through the door, “It’s me, Fred.” 

Her face perked up at the sound of his voice. “Oh, Angel.” She took her glasses off and ran to open the door. She greeted him with a big smile, “Hi! Hey! You’re . . . Well, hi there!” 

Angel watched as Fred bounced around like a pogo stick. After another shower and getting another glass of blood, he had come up here to check on her. Fred reached up as if to hug him, but when he didn’t move to reach for her, she thought better of it and stepped back. 

“It’s good to . . . Did you have a nice . . . Oh, here, let me make some room!” Fred was abuzz with energy. She reminded Angel of a fluttering butterfly that didn’t know where to land. He watched as she cleaned a place for him. 

“Uh, Fred, I can’t come in,” Angel prompted. 

Fred stopped what she was doing. She knew she was trying too hard. Angel was too busy to be around her, what with all the saving people and being a champion. 

“Of course not,” she said sadly. “You’re worn from your trip. You go rest.” She walked to the door. “We’ll catch up later.” Fred began to shut the door, keeping her eyes downcast. 

“Fred, I want to talk to you,” Angel hurried to say. “I just can’t come in unless you . . .” 

Fred pulled the door open again, giggling to herself. “I invite you. Instead of being rude! Oh, come in. Come in.” 

Angel walked in, giving her a small smile. He looked around the room at the writing on covering the walls. 

“It’s just a smidge of vampire in you as far as I’m concerned, but the universe has rules. I’m a firm believer in rules, and theorems, formulas . . .” Fred said as she walked around him, going back to her post where she was writing. 

“I get that,” Angel said as he tried to make sense of the words and equations on the walls. 

“Aphorisms leave me a little dry,” she said, nodding in agreement with herself. 

“How are you?” Angel asked. 

“Yeah. Good,” she spared him a glance before going back to the wall. “Everything’s pretty much like when you, you know, went away on your trip.” 

“Sorry I left so suddenly. I just . . .” he started to apologize. 

“Hey, no, you had things . . . people . . . your mate or whatever to take care of. It’s not like I need a babysitter or . . .” she turned back to him fully and asked expectantly, “You’re sticking around _now_ , right?” 

“Yes I am,” he assured her. 

“Oh,” she let out a small laugh. “Good!” 

Angel stepped closer and read the words on the wall behind Fred. “Listen, listen, listen . . . What are you listening for?” 

Fred sat down on the arm of a chair and pulled her knees up, tucking them under her chin. “The click. When it all comes together and makes sense. There’s like a click in your brain and then you understand things again.” 

“Oh.” Angel looked at her curiously. “What happens if you run out of wall space before you get the click?” 

Fred hugged her knees. “I don’t know.” 

“Fred, I know you spent . . .” Angel stopped as he stepped on some of the trash littering the floor, then moved a chair and sit across from Fred. “Five years in a place where humans could only be slaves or fugitives. I know that wasn’t a picnic for you. But, you’re home now. You’re safe. You can come out of your room. I know that it’s going to take some time.” 

Fred got to her feet and moved round Angel to a blank wall space and started writing again. “Time! I have a whole treatise on that. It seems to take a lot of it to do just about anything these days.” 

Angel sighed and stood up. He turned around and took the marker out of her hand. “Fred. Fred. You don’t have to write absolutely everything down.” 

“Oh, right,” she said thoughtfully. “God, I should write _that_ down.” 

Angel reached out and helped her down off the chair she had climbed on. “You just need to take some small steps. Hmm?” He pushed her glasses up her nose with a light smile. “Like, uh, coming downstairs,” he walked past her and opened the door, “and hanging with us for a while.” 

“Ahhh! Who’s that?” Fred asked as she pointed at something behind him. 

Angel had his head turned to talk to her when he opened the door, so he didn’t see Spike standing in the hall, leaning against the doorjamb with a glass of blood in his hand. Angel turned to see the intruder when Fred screamed and gave a sigh of relief when he saw his boy there in his demon face. 

“Are you making those giant strides Cordy was talking about?” Spike asked casually as he drank his blood. 

“Something like that,” Angel replied. 

“The big ponce has no manners does he?” Spike quipped as he shifted back to his human guise. “I’m William the Bloody.” 

“Spike, you don’t have to scare her!” Angel admonished. 

“Wot? ’S my name!” Spike said indignantly. When Angel only glowered at him, he sighed. “Fine!” He adopted a bad American accent and said, “Hi, my name is Spike and how are you today?” 

Angel looked even less amused. “He’s a menace is what he is.” 

Fred giggled at the banter. “Y’all are too much.” 

Angel nodded towards Fred. “Spike, this is Fred.” 

“Ah, so you’re the little damsel Angel got to rescue,” Spike smirked. 

“Uh, I was a slave cow, not really a damsel or anything. Cordelia was a princess! She was in Pylea a whole day and they crowned her.” Fred pouted. “They didn’t do that to me. They were going to cut my head off when Angel saved me!” 

Spike looked from the adoring expression on Fred’s face as she made doe eyes at Angel to his Sire’s friendly, yet uncomfortable smile. 

“Uh huh, great strides there Angel. She’s in love with you like every woman you ever met,” Spike chuckled. 

“No she isn’t! She’s just – grateful . . . maybe,” Angel said as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Fred grinned at him. 

Angel groaned. “Spike, I’m trying to work a miracle here. She needs to know she’s safe in the hotel. Not that you’re going to tease her out of her clothes.” 

“Don’t think I need to worry about that,” Spike laughed. “I’m not the one she’s besotted with.” 

Angel looked apologetic at Fred. “You really are safe here in the hotel.” 

At that moment, Cordelia’s scream echoed through the hotel. Angel and Spike looked at each other and at Fred. 

“Hold that thought!” Angel told Fred. 

Fred was close enough to the doorway now that Spike handed his glass to her as he and Angel ran down the hall and galloped down the stairs to the lobby where Cordelia was writhing around on the floor lost in a vision. Her scream also brought Wesley and Gunn running from different parts of the hotel. 

Angel and Gunn dropped to their knees on either side of Cordelia, supporting her between them. 

“Easy,” Angel soothed. “What is it? What did you see?” 

Flashes of a small group of vampires killing college students movie reeled through Cordelia’s head. “A bunch of vampires . . . they’re crashing a party, killing people.” 

“Where?” Angel asked anxiously. 

“Wilson College . . . Bonner Hall.” Wesley and Gunn headed for the door, leaving Spike and Angel beside Cordelia as she finished, “Room nine-eighteen.” 

“Room nine-eighteen, got it,” Angel confirmed. 

“They’re going to take hostages.” Cordelia grimaced as more flashes of the scene fluttered through her mind. “Watch out for the blonde. She’s the worst!” 

“Are you all right?” Angel asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Go. Go.” Cordelia pushed him to get up. 

Angel got to his feet and hurried after them. Spike stayed a half-second behind to help Cordelia up on the settee before he ran after Angel. He didn’t see her fall over to lie on the cushion, sobbing from the pain. 

**************************

**_Wilson College, Bonner Hall_**

Gunn, Angel, Wes and Spike burst into the appointed dorm room and found it littered with bodies. Spike picked up a flyer, scanned it and handed it to Gunn before kneeling down to check the bodies. 

“So much for inviting everyone,” Gunn said dryly as he read the flyer. 

“Some of them are still alive,” Angel announced. 

Wesley picked up the phone sitting on the desk near the door and dialed 9-1-1. “Yes. There’s been an accident. We need two, maybe three ambulances. Wilson College. Bonner Hall. Room nine-eighteen.” 

Angel examined the room then walked over to an open window. He listened for a moment before saying, “They’re heading east on Sixth Street. Take the car. Spike, let’s go.” 

“What are you going to do?” Gunn asked skeptically. Angel shifted to his demon, followed by Spike. They both stared at Gunn through yellow eyes. “Oh.” 

The vampires jumped out the window and ran along the rooftops. 

Four vampires traveled down Sixth Street in a convertible with the top down. A blonde boy was trapped between the blonde vampiress Cordelia mentioned and the driver. His dark-haired girlfriend was trapped in the backseat between two other vampires. 

“Please,” the boy begged. 

“Hmm?” Elisabeth hummed, looking over at him. 

“Please don’t hurt her,” the boy clarified. 

“You love her?” Elisabeth asked curiously. The boy nodded. “You’d do anything for her?” He nodded again. “What if . . . we just kill her and let you go?” The boy stared at her. “Come on now. Life’s about making choice. You or her, what’s it going to be?” 

After a moment, the boy sobbed, “Her. Take her. God, I . . .” 

“Gee. Bobby, do you call that love? When we get home,” she petted the side of his face. “I’ll show you what real love is.” 

The girl in the backseat screamed as Angel dropped down on the engine hood of the car. He reached over the windshield and grabbed the wheel, swerving the car off the street into a building. Spike dropped down from the rooftop, landing on the trunk of the car. Wesley and Gunn brought Angel’s car to a screeching halt behind the wrecked car and jumped out. They grabbed weapons from the backseat and rushed to help Angel and Spike. 

Spike yanked the girl out of the car while Angel yanked the boy out. 

“Run!” Angel yelled at them. 

Elisabeth slugged Angel and ran after the kids, only to find herself face to face with Wesley and Gunn. She punched Gunn then turned back to hit Angel while he was fighting two other vampires and Wesley took on the third. She met Spike’s fist instead. 

Gunn hit one of the vampires, distracting its attention from Angel, then quickly staked it and threw the stake to Wesley. The former watcher used the weapon to stake his opponent. Seeing his buddies turn to dust, the third vampire started turned to run away. He only got a few feet before Spike stabbed him and twisted his wrist until the vampire exploded. 

Elisabeth charged at Spike’s back, but Angel grabbed her by the shirt, pulled her around to face him and staked her. In the process, her necklace snapped off in his hand. She stared at him, recognizing him at the last second. “Angelus?” she said before turning to dust. 

Spike spun around to see a cloud of dust shower his face and Angel looking down at an object in his hand. He coughed up the dust and waved it away. He went up to his Sire and fingered the chain, holding up the necklace. 

“Robbing trinkets off vampires now? Is that like us robbing our victims?” Spike asked as he looked at locket. 

“It’s familiar. I recognize it . . . I think.” He took it back in hand and opened the locket. It showed two aged pictures of the girl he’d just staked and a young man. 

**************************

**_Marseilles, 1767_**

_An alarm bell rang, echoing its distress signal throughout the town. Wooden buildings were ablaze in colors of orange, red and yellow as they burned. A group of four individuals were oblivious to the destruction as they leisurely walked down the street. A young couple, Elisabeth and James, danced down the road laughing, followed by a more sober Angelus and Darla._

_“Young love,” Darla mused as she watched the couple._

_Angelus wasn’t as easily impressed. He never professed love of anything aside from a good massacre. “Give it a century,” he predicted, echoing the same words as the Master over his own dalliance with Darla._

_“A century? A mere hundred years?” James scoffed when he heard Angelus’ comment._

_Elisabeth giggled and pressed up against her companion. “I would need a thousand just to sketch the perfect plane of your face.”_

_“And I would need ten thousand just to name the color of your eyes,” James said in an attempt to outdo her adoration._

_Angelus found this conversation frivolous. He had never voiced such inane drivel to Darla. Their relationship was a practical partnership. It wasn’t colored by such things as love and devotion or loyalty. He’d learned early on the motto of want, take, have. There was no belonging, no rules and regulations set by society. He wasn’t dutifully bound to Darla as a husband to a wife and thank God for that. He was never faithful as a human and didn’t try to be in his new life as a vampire._

_Angelus kept walking with Darla, not bothering to turn around. “They’re green, but take your time. In fact, don’t. We have a ship to catch and Holtz may not be far behind.”_

_James sighed at Angelus’ harried pace._

_“You know neither poetry nor love, Angelus,” Elisabeth accused._

_Angelus looked at Darla as if to say he felt a desire to stake two troublesome vampires that she should have never bothered to turn in the first place._

_“He knows other things,” Darla spoke up in his defense. “Marvelously vile and ripping things. Didn’t we eat a poet in Madrid?”_

_“Troubadour,” Angelus corrected her._

_“Everything’s closed!” James whined. He smiled at Elisabeth, “Pity, I wanted to spend some of the count’s gold on you.”_

_“We’ll need it for the voyage,” Angelus admonished._

_“Count DeLeon was a little rich for my blood. I’ll be full for a week!” Elisabeth crowed._

_“The fire was excessive,” Angelus said casually._

_“Of course it was,” James exclaimed happily. “We burned his villa to the ground!”_

_“We left a mark, made a statement!” Elisabeth joined in._

_That stopped Angelus in his tracks. He turned around to face the imprudent couple. It was only Darla’s staying hand on his arm that kept him from ringing James’ scrawny neck. “Ah, a statement as in: ‘Here we are, Holtz. Please hunt us down.’”_

_James threw his head back and sighed in agitation. “Ah, who cares about Holtz?”_

_Darla stalked up to James, flicking her fan at his face angrily. “You would if you knew him. He’s killed scores of us. He’s hunted Angelus and I across half of Europe.” She turned back to Angelus. “God, if he follows us to Morocco what then? The new world?”_

_“I say we stay and fight the bastard!” James said excitedly._

_“Yeah, but you’re an idiot,” Angelus answered dryly._

_“I don’t believe he’s the most formidable vampire killer in the world. None lives to tell the tale and all,” James scoffed. He leaned closer to Angelus. “ **You** lived to tell the tale.”_

_“I heard he trapped you both in a barn and **you** fled, leaving **him** to die,” Elisabeth said, gesturing between Angelus and Darla._

_“It’s not true,” James said aghast._

_Angelus and Darla shared a wry smile. “It’s entirely true. She hit me with a shovel, wished me luck and rode off on our only horse.”_

_Darla leaned close, giving him a genuine smile. “Life is full of surprises.”_

_“Ah, life is boring. You’re full of surprises,” he said._

_“Of course, when you finally did catch up with me in Vienna I had to pay for my sins, again and again,” Darla said as she smacked her fan playfully against Angelus’s chest and walked away from him._

_Angelus watched her hips sway. “Hmm, can you **even** begin to fathom the things we did?” He turned around and scoffed at James before following Darla. “Of course not, you’re in love.”_

_When the young couple didn’t follow, Angelus turned back to see Elisabeth looking at a necklace in a shop window and James moving up behind her._

_“Let’s not dawdle, children,” Angelus called over his shoulder._

_“It’s so pretty,” Elisabeth cooed as she admired the necklace._

_“No it’s not,” James stated._

_“James!” Elisabeth slapped his chest._

_James smirked. “Not as pretty as it’s going to be . . .” He broke the window and picked up the locket. “When it’s worn by the prettiest one of all,” he put it around her neck._

_“I adore it. I’ll **never** take it off!” Elisabeth vowed as James swung her around in a hug and kissed her._

_Just then a mob of uniformed soldiers rounded a street corner and were heading straight for the small group._

_“This is what love gets you,” Angelus growled._

_James laughed off Angelus’ worry. “Elisabeth, you and Darla get to the ship, we’ll join you there.” He gave her a quick kiss and ushered her off before he turned back and gave Angelus’ a jab in the arm. “Let’s give them a rout, what do you say Angelus?”_

_“I’d say you’re an idiot, but I’d just be repeating myself,” Angelus sighed._

_“Come on you bloody frogs! I broke the window and I’ll break your skulls!” James laughed and turned to Angelus as Darla and Elisabeth disappeared down the street. “See, all you have to do is stand up to them.” Then, shouted at the soldiers, “What are you afraid of?”_

_Another group of riders galloped up the street, running the soldiers off. In the torch light held by a cloaked figure on the lead horse, Angelus recognized the cavalier hat as belonging to the vampire hunter he had just warned James about. The boy was a complete idiot._

_“Not us,” Angelus replied as Holtz rode closer. A few of his comrades aimed crossbows at him and his idiot companion. “Hope she treasures that locket.”_

***************************

**_Present Day, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel had related the story to Spike on the way back to the hotel with Gunn and Wesley catching up when they got into the building. Now, they were gathered around the reception desk where Cordelia joined in, listening to Angel’s tale. 

“Then what?” Gunn asked. 

Angel looked at the locket, lost in memory. “Huh?” 

“What happened with Holtz?” Gunn asked apprehensively. 

“Oh, that’s another story,” Angel said as he put the locket away. 

“We got time,” Gunn said. 

“I’m not sure we do,” Wesley contradicted. 

“Yeah, I want to know about this vampire childe who was worse than me,” Spike broke in with a smirk. 

Angel looked at Spike. “He wasn’t worse than you. You’re rash, impetuous, but you weren’t dumb. You may have been the cause of mobs coming after us, but you were never stupid enough to take on more than you could handle. You knew your strengths, James was an idiot.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Spike was the golden childe. Can we get back to the fact that James and Elisabeth had the big, forever love?” When Spike scoffed and said that the big, forever love was him and Drusilla, Cordelia ignored him and went on. “If he’s still around and finds out who killed her . . .” 

“He’s going to want revenge,” Wesley finished. 

“ _If_ he’s still around and _if_ they’re still in love,” Angel corrected. “That was a long time ago.” He squeezed Spike’s shoulder affectionately. “James and Elisabeth loved each other. You were devoted to Dru.” 

Angel almost called Spike ‘baby boy’. It was on the tip of his tongue to do so, but he forced himself not to. Gunn was still uncomfortable around the vampires when they were intimate with each other. That scene in the kitchen after Angel and Spike spilled blood all over each other and the gang caught Angel licking it off Spike, was the last straw for Gunn. 

“Two hundred plus years and the girl is still wearing the locket,” Cordelia hedged. 

“Gunn and I’ll hit the streets, see what our sources can tell us,” Wesley and Gunn headed for the door. 

“Uh-huh,” Cordelia nodded and grinned at Spike and Angel. “See? We have sources now.” 

Angel looked amused and impressed. “Oh, you’re almost like real detectives now.” 

“Hey!” Gunn yelled back indignantly as he followed Wesley. 

“Just kidding,” Angel laughed. “You should probably check it out. James really lived for that girl.”


	2. Chapter 34-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17 WARNING: Angel/Spike/Fred friendship in this chapter.

##  _Chapter 34-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 1)_

**_A Few Hours Later_**

Cordelia leaned on the reception desk and looked between the case file in front of her and Angel who was looking at the pictures of James and Elisabeth in the locket. He could feel her watching him. After twenty minutes of it, he finally spoke up. 

“What?” 

“What?” she echoed. 

“What do you want to say?” Angel asked, still looking at the locket. 

“Ah, me? Nothing. What makes you think I want to . . .” Cordelia tried to sound innocent and failed. 

“’Cause I know you?” Angel stated. 

“Well, it’s really . . . none of my business,” Cordelia said, still playing the innocent card. 

“And that always stops you,” Angel scoffed. 

Spike sat on the couch reading a magazine with half an ear to the conversation. The James and Elisabeth story was a hundred-and-six years before he was turned. Other than the git possibly coming to seek revenge for the death of his girlfriend, Spike had no interest in the tale. He knew about Holtz. Angelus had related the saga to him long ago, though he did fail to mention James and Elisabeth’s part in it. The vampires apparently didn’t make as big of an impact in his Sire’s existence as James was hoping. Spike shrugged it off and returned his attention to the latest issue of Gunn’s weaponry magazine. 

Cordelia stepped closer to Angel. “Actually, it is my business . . . _our_ business, because we’re trying to do a job here and what affects you affects me and . . . anyway, I don’t like to see you suffer more than you have to. I don’t think you should blame yourself or feel guilty for her death.” 

That confused Spike. Why the bloody hell would Angel feel guilty over some blonde vamp’s death? He shook his head and flipped the page. 

Angel must have been thinking along the same lines when he said, “I don’t.” 

“Good,” Cordelia nodded. “Glad to hear it.” 

“I didn’t even know who she was when I killed her,” he continued. 

“Not _her_! Angel . . .” Cordelia started to say. 

After a moment, he caught on to what she was leading to. “Oh.” He closed the locket and slowly turned around. “You . . . you want to talk about . . .” 

“She was the love of your life and she died.” 

Well, _that_ was Spike’s cue to leave. He and Angel had talked about the existential meaning of Buffy’s death somewhere around the Netherlands in their world tour. He didn’t need a review of it. He scowled when Cordelia said that Buffy was the love of his Sire’s life. Spike set the magazine down and walked between Cordelia and Angel, up the stairs. 

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” Cordelia said as he brushed passed her. 

“Not a bloody thing,” was Spike’s agitated reply. 

“Spike, she didn’t mean it that way,” Angel said apologetically. 

Spike turned on the stairs to face him. “Look, mate. I’ve already been through this conversation. I’m not going to listen to it again. For those of us who were there, this is old news. Buffy’s gone. I’ve made my peace with it. I understand that those at home need to play catch up. So, I’ll just be upstairs.” 

“Spike . . .” Angel called after him as he stomped up the stairs. 

When the blonde vampire kept going, Angel sighed and sat down heavily on the landing, facing Cordelia. 

“What was that about?” she asked, moving closer. 

“Nothing,” Angel waved her off. “What were you going to say about Buffy?” 

Cordelia moved closer. “You weren’t there when it happened.” She sat down next to him with a sigh. “You couldn’t help her fight. You couldn’t save her. You couldn’t die with her.” 

Angel didn’t answer. Instead, he wondered what Spike was doing upstairs. His boy wasn’t one for rehashing old memories. Okay, that was a bit of a lie. Spike used a lot of old memories against him when it was convenient. But once something was resolved in his head, he let go of it . . . sometimes. 

“This is going to be one of those talks where I do all the talking, isn’t it?” Cordelia asked as she stood up. “I’m not going to pry. It’s not my style.” She turned on him then. “Okay, it’s totally my style, but I can tell that I’m not getting anywhere right now. You have to tell me one thing, though. You owe me this much. What the hell happened with Holtz?” 

**************************

Upstairs, Spike made his way to Fred’s room and knocked on the door. He’d tuned out the conversation between Angel and Cordelia when he hit the second floor. 

“Hey! How ya doing? I’m okay! I’m fine really. No need to bother with me,” Fred said through the door. 

“It’s Spike,” he said. 

A few long minutes later, the door cracked open and a head poked out. When she saw him, the door opened wider. 

“Oh, you’re Angel’s friend. How are you? Is Angel all right? Where is he?” Fred asked in a rush. 

“Yeah, pet. I’m fine. The ponce is still as undead as ever talking to Cordelia downstairs. The topic had nothing to do with me so I thought I’d come see you,” Spike explained. 

“Why would you want to see me? I’m just plain old Fred. Nothing much to see really. Not like Cordy, she’s beautiful,” Fred continued with her run-on sentences. 

Spike put a hand over his dead heart as if he were shocked that she would say such a thing. “Don’t sell yourself short, pet. I’m sure that once you find your way out of your shell, you’ll be radiant.” 

He didn’t think anyone could turn magenta with a blush. All he did was speak the truth. When she stepped aside and granted him entrance, he shut the door and looked at the room. It was exactly as he’d last seen it. 

“Fred, how about we clean this up a bit, yeah?” Spike suggested. He had to find something to do to occupy his time while Angel was busy pouring his heart out to Cordelia. 

“Uh, okay . . .” Fred said, unsure about Spike’s motive. 

After Spike and Fred spent two hours cleaning her room, he lay on her bed and watched her write problematic theories on the walls and talk to herself. She was a slip of a thing, kind of reminded him of Drusilla in a way. The crazy talk was a little more coherent than Drusilla’s. But, if Drusilla was a physicist student trapped in a demon dimension for five years, then she’d be Fred. He could easily see himself caring for her just as much as his Sire seemed to. 

“So, you and Angel are close?” Fred’s question pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, pet. You can say we’re close. He’s my Sire,” Spike replied. 

“What’s that mean?” Fred asked as she continued to write on the wall. 

“He made me what I am,” Spike said cryptically. 

“He made you a vampire?” 

“In a sense. Drusilla sired me. Angel took over the claim and taught me to be a vampire,” Spike explained. 

“That must have been thrilling. You know, ’cause Angel’s so good and caring. I bet you were spoiled by him,” Fred said in awe. 

“Pet, Angel and Angelus may be the same vampire, but they are different sides of his personality,” Spike started to say. 

“Oh! He turned into a demon in Pylea. So, I’ve seen it,” Fred said matter-of-factly. 

“He changed in Pylea huh?” Spike asked interested. 

She nodded. “Yes. He scared himself when he saw his reflection in a small pond in my cave.” 

“But, he was still Angel. He still had a soul?” 

“Of course, why wouldn’t he?” she asked confused. 

“Luv, you have a lot to learn about Angel,” Spike said. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles_**

James burst into a doctor’s office with a frantic nurse at his heels. 

“Wait a minute! You can’t go in there! He’s sloughing!” she said anxiously. 

The doctor in question sat behind his desk, pulling a light brown mask of gunk off his face. 

“Dr. Gregson, I tried to tell him!” the nurse said. 

“It’s all right, Sandy,” the doctor said as he dropped the mask into a basket labeled TOXIC WASTE. Then, conversationally, “I go through this every month. Just like a woman.” He wiped his hands off and put on his glasses. “So, I gather this is a matter of some urgency.” 

“I need it,” James demanded. 

“It?” 

“The cure,” he stressed impatiently. 

“You’re aware of the price? It’s a steep one,” the doctor warned. 

“I’ve already paid it,” James assured him. 

“All right, then. Sandy, let’s prepare the patient,” the doctor said as he ushered James into another room. 

He laid on an operating table with the doctor and nurse standing over him. 

“Now, James,” the doctor said as he raised a scalpel. “This shouldn’t hurt,” he sliced into the vampire’s chest. “Too much.” 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel_**

After talking to Cordelia, Angel went in search of Spike when he hadn’t appeared after three hours. He was on his way down the hall when Spike stepped out of Fred's room and closed the door. Angel stopped at the end of the corridor and admired the view as his boy sauntered towards him. 

“So, you’ve been with Fred all this time?” Angel asked. 

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get her to come out of her room. She reminds me of Dru, what with the nonsense babble that somehow makes sense. She honestly hasn’t seen your dark side, has she?” 

“No, and I hope she never has the opportunity to meet Angelus. He’d have a field day with her,” Angel sighed. 

He’d watched Spike’s lips move the entire time his boy responded. He yanked the slighter vampire around the corner so that they were hidden from view of, hopefully everyone, and kissed him. Spike chuckled and purred at the same time. He immediately held onto Angel’s sides and opened his mouth to Angel’s tongue. 

“Can’t believe I have to hide in my own hotel to do this,” Angel said against Spike’s lips. 

“Yeah, but it’s fun, isn’t it? Makes it more exciting this way,” Spike teased as he moved to unbutton Angel’s pants. “Who knows, Cordy may come up here and find us in a compromising position . . .” Angel groaned at that thought, grinding Spike into the wall. “Or, Fred may decide that now was the greatest time to come out of her room and see a side of her big hero in a way she never thought before.” 

Angel growled in Spike’s ear at that. He ran a finger in the waistband of Spike’s jeans, tugged the buttons open and reached in to curl his fingers around the younger vampire’s erection. He felt his childe do the same with him. He groaned when Spike matched his strokes. 

“How old are we?” Angel panted. 

“Too old,” Spike replied. 

“Centuries old vampires and we’re hiding from humans to get each other off,” Angel pointed out as he bucked into his mate’s hand. 

“We could go to the bedroom and lock the door,” Spike suggested. 

Angel peeked around the corner and mentally calculated how far away the aforementioned bedroom was. “Too far . . .” 

“I don’t think Fred’s coming out any time soon,” Spike chuckled then groaned, “Angel.” 

“Don’t do that,” Angel growled softly. 

“Do what?” 

“Groan like that! Fred can probably hear you,” Angel hissed. 

“She’s human, mate. And if you don’t want me to groan like that then quit squeezing my cock like this,” Spike growled and demonstrated by squeezing the erection in his hand, causing his Sire to echo his earlier response. “See?” 

Angel slammed his mouth down over Spike’s lips to shut him up. There was a maid’s service closet a few feet away. They headed towards it while pulling clothes off each other. Angel opened the door and pushed Spike inside. Shutting the door, he backed his childe up against it and returned to grinding against him. He rocked his hips, thrusting his erection into his lover’s hand as he returned the favor. 

“I’ve missed this,” Angel said near Spike’s ear. 

“Did you forget joining the Mile High Club between Florida and Reno? The Jacuzzi in Reno and the hotel bed in Las Vegas, not to mention the sauna? And nearly causing a wreck on the I-15 south, crossing into California?” Spike chuckled. 

“You should know better than to suck me off while I’m driving! It’s your fault for swallowing me like you did, which caused me to arch up, subsequently press my foot on the gas and jerk the wheel,” Angel growled near his ear. 

“Thank fuck you opened your eyes at the last minute and straightened the car out, or we’d have been wrapped around a tree,” Spike smirked. 

“Mm,” Angel hummed as he suckled and nipped at the claim mark on his childe’s neck. 

Spike groaned and bucked into the elder vampire’s fist. He had a grip on the back of the Angel’s head, holding him in place. He sucked in a hissing breath when Angel squeezed a hardened nipple. 

Just then, the shrill ring of a cell phone sounded like a fire alarm in the small closet. The vampires ignored it, too wrapped up in each other as they were. Angel grabbed Spike around the waist and picked him up, trapping the slimmer body between him and the door. Then, he proceeded to grind against his mate’s crotch, until the chafing of jean material on sensitive flesh became too much. Spike howled in frustration when his head dropped back and cracked against the wooden panel. 

Being that they were in a utility closet, there wasn’t much room to maneuver as it was. Not with two bodies occupying the same space. There was a sound of fabric ripping as Angel yanked the jeans over Spike’s hips enough to relieve the pressure on his cock. 

“Thank you,” Spike hissed and his eyes rolled back as his dick was freed. He arched against the door when the huge hand started working him over again. 

The ringing had stopped, but a few minutes later started up again. Holding Spike against the door with his body, Angel felt around for the phone cursing the device in six different languages. However, his search for the phone didn’t stop the other vampire from moving against him in an attempt to achieve orgasm with or without his help. 

Finally locating the gadget from hell, Angel punched a button and gruffly said, “Yeah? What did you find, Gunn?” He listened for a few minutes, trying to ignore Spike rubbing against him. “Yeah, do that. We’ll cover this end.” 

The blonde vampire chose that moment to growl his release. Angel quickly hung up before Gunn could inquire about the noise. He kissed Spike quick as he reached for the doorknob. The barest slip of his hand opened the door and they both fell out onto the floor of the hall. Angel kicked the door shut and got to his knees as Spike sat up and rolled to his feet. They started redressing themselves. 

“That was Gunn, he said that James was in town and knows I killed Elisabeth. He’s looking for me,” Angel explained as he put his shirt back on and tucked the hem into his pants before fastening them. 

“Do you think one of these days we could actually finish an orgasm?” Spike mused as he tossed his t-shirt over his head and shrugged into it. 

“You’d think a champion could work it into his schedule wouldn’t you?” Angel replied, watching Spike finish dressing. 

“Maybe you should look into getting a different job, something less stressful. Have you ever tried taking up a law practice? I hear that’s quite exciting what with the lying and cheating on a daily basis,” Spike suggested. He received a glare for posing the idea. He grinned. “Hey, you know, if you manage to kill that Lindsey bloke, you could take his job.” 

Angel cringed at the thought. “I wouldn’t work for Wolfram  & Hart if they were the last sign of humanity on the earth. I’m fighting against them, not for them.” 

They sprinted down the hall, Angel mentally willing his erection to go away until a more appropriate time. They galloped down the stairs and met Cordelia as she moved around the reception desk to see what the racket was about. 

“What’s up?” she asked. 

Angel and Spike headed for the weapons cabinet as Angel said, “He’s alive. Wes and Gunn are going to track him down.” 

“What if they can’t?” Cordelia asked apprehensively. 

“Doesn’t really matter, ’cause I know where he’ll be headed,” Angel replied. 

“Here! For you!” Cordelia shrieked. 

“I want you to go home while it’s still light out and stay there,” Angel insisted as he opened the weapons cabinet. Spike picked out a weapon while his Sire was busy with Cordelia. 

Cordelia crossed her arms. “No.” 

“Yes!” Angel argued. 

“Uh-huh,” she contradicted. 

Angel glanced at his weapons as if he didn’t recognize them. “Where’s my hurling ax? This is all different!” 

“Oh, I moved some things to the cellar while you were gone,” she said casually. When he looked at her, she became defensive. “They were dust catchers!” 

“Go home,” Angel said as he closed the cabinet. 

“I’m sticking with you!” Cordelia declared. 

“I appreciate your courage, really. But, I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Angel said. 

“Well, I don’t either!” she agreed. “If I go home, he’ll come after me because I’m home alone.” Spike burst into laughter at that. Cordelia glared at him and returned to pleading her case. “That’s what they do! They come after you when you’re alone.” She waved her hands animatedly. “Oh sure, ‘Cordy, go home! Be a hostage with the torture and the fear and the tort . . .’” 

“Cordy!” Angel broke into her rant. “Will you, just once, do what I tell you without arguing about everything, okay? Spike will take you home and watch out for you.” 

“Yeah,” Spike readily agreed and then thought about what his Sire said. “Hey, wait a minute. A big fight’s coming and you want me to baby-sit? Not a bleedin’ chance. Call her a cab!” 

Angel rolled his eyes. “Hurling ax, basement?” He headed for the basement with Spike and Cordelia hurrying after him. 

“I’m not arguing! I just know I’d be a lot safer by your side rather than all alone at home,” Cordelia explained. 

Angel opened the basement door to find James standing on the other side of it. James grabbed Angel’s shirt in his fists and threw him back against the wall. 

“Why’d you do it?” James demanded. 

Cordelia ran back into the lobby as Spike punched James in the jaw. As James turned to attack Spike, Angel had recovered from the blind punch and hit him. All three vampires exchanged punches with each other. James knocked Spike back into the wall and sent Angel flying across the floor into the lobby. 

“Was it because I had something that you could never have?” James growled. 

Angel scrambled behind a pillar and yanked Cordelia out of sight before James noticed her. Then, he ran out to attack James at the same time Spike gained his bearings and attacked from the other side. The trio was fighting in the lobby when Fred stepped out of the shadows and looked down over the banister. 

“Angel?” Fred called out when she didn’t see him. “I thought I heard company. I came out of my room. Small steps . . . like you said.” 

Angel stopped choking James, stepped back and looked up at Fred. “Get back to your room and stay there!” He went back to helping Spike fight with James, switch hitting the vampire. 

“What’s going on?” she asked curiously, warily making her way down the stairs. 

The phone rang in the lobby, but Angel and Spike were too busy fighting to answer it. Fred walked over to pick up the receiver, but was sidelined when the blonde vampire slid across the floor. She forgot about answering the phone in favor of going to Spike’s aid. Cordelia jumped into the fray, picking up a fire extinguisher and hurled it at the back of James’s head. 

“I told you to . . .” Angel started to admonish his pseudo-secretary. 

Cordelia picked up a stake and threw it at Angel. “Shut up and stake him!” However, James intercepted the stake and attacked Angel with it. “Oops.” 

Angel blocked James from trying to push the stake into his chest. “You never loved anyone or anything. Go to hell!” 

Spike pushed Fred out of the way and went to help Angel when Cordelia jumped on James’s back. He turned and tossed her across the lobby. Spike jumped in and tossed James off of Angel. Angel scrambled to his feet and went to help Cordelia up. He glanced back long enough to see Spike bury the stake into James’s chest. The vampire fell over and Spike puffed out his chest triumphantly. 

“It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s over,” Angel assured her as he helped her to her feet. 

Cordelia looked over and saw James pulling the stake out of his chest instead of dusting. She, Angel and Spike stared as the wound closed in front of their eyes. 

“Uh, ‘over’ in what sense?” she asked. 

Spike punched James again, knocking the stake to the floor. Angel picked it up and attacked James, staking him again. Both Angel and Spike grabbed James and threw him towards the entrance doors, kicking him out into the sunlight. They hurried back to Cordelia where Fred had joined her. 

“Ah, shouldn’t he be on fire?” Fred pointed towards the doors where James was picking himself up off the ground. 

Angel grabbed Cordelia’s elbow and hustled her towards the basement. “Let’s get out of here!” 

Spike grabbed Fred’s hand and followed his Sire into the basement and down the sewer access. Cordelia was the last to climb down the ladder into the sewers, snagging her clothing. 

“My coat. It’s stuck.” 

“Leave it,” Angel said. 

Cordelia slipped out of the jacket and hurried after Angel. As they rounded a corner to catch up with Spike and Fred, James dropped down past the ladder. 

Angel followed Spike’s scent. When they got to a fork in the sewer, he pushed Cordelia towards the path Spike chose. “Go that way.” 

“What are you going to do?” she asked. 

“Go!” 

As Cordelia ran off, Angel sliced into his hand and hurried down another tunnel, rubbing his hand along the walls. Then, he turned back and hurried to catch up with his three companions. He found a service door and opened it. 

“This way! Hurry up!” he hissed. They entered a small room where Spike and Fred waited and Angel pulled the door shut behind them. 

A short time later, James ran up to the fork and sniffed the air. He ran down the tunnel where Angel smeared his blood. 

Inside the service room, Cordelia spoke up in a loud whisper. “All right, I’ve been doing this for a while. Don’t stakes through the heart and sunshine kill you guys?” 

“Shh!” Angel hissed. 

“He seems to have become . . .” Spike started to say. 

“. . . Invincible?” Cordelia suggested. 

“Let’s not exaggerate,” Angel said. 

“The ring of Amarra. When you had that you were invincible. Does he have a ring?” Cordelia inquired. 

“No,” Angel replied. 

Spike had half an ear to the conversation and listening to Fred mumble about the theory and practicality of invincibility. 

“Hmm. Did the Amarra people make cufflinks or belt buckles?” Cordelia asked. 

“There was only one,” Spike replied. 

“And you had to smash it!” Cordelia accused Angel, shoving him. 

“Can we do recriminations later?” Angel suggested. 

“Yes,” Cordelia hissed. 

“Good, now be quiet. I think he took the bait,” Angel said. 

Spike gently placed his hand over Fred’s mouth to keep her quiet as they listened to see if James had discovered the ploy and come after them. A rumbling sound shook the tunnels, startling them. 

“Earthquake!” Cordelia squeaked, throwing herself at Angel. 

“Subway!” Angel hissed as he pointed to the ceiling. 

Cordelia nodded and let go of him. “Okay, just the subway.” 

All four jumped and Fred squeaked while Cordelia let out a small scream as her cell phone suddenly rang. 

“Jeez!” Angel shuddered. 

“Sorry, sorry, cell phone,” she apologized as she fumbled to answer it. She tried to listen through the static and only caught every other word from Wes on the other end. “Huh? What? Say that again?” 

Cordelia tried to make out what Wesley said through the static that was getting worse. “Oh. He’s _invincible_ , is he?” she repeated as she glared pointedly at Angel. He shrugged. “He went to a what? Slog demon? What’s that?” She relayed back to Angel what she thought she heard: “Some kind of demon that collects rare organs.” Returning to the barely discernable words over the phone, she replied, “Cut out his heart?” Addressing her companions again, “Absolutely cannot be killed.” To the phone again, “Wait, what? How long? Six what? What? Hello?” 

Cordelia looked frustrated at the LCD screen of her cell and groaned. “No signal.” She closed it and reported, “Okay. The guy’s invincible, but it only lasts so long then he dies.” 

“How long?” Angel asked anxiously. 

“He said . . .” Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know. Six minutes, hours, weeks.” She fumbled with the phone. “I hate these things. Come on, give me a signal.” 

“That’s good news, right?” Fred asked as she eased Spike’s hand away from her mouth. “All we have to do is, is wait him out.” 

“Right,” Cordelia agreed. “We just wait here until we’re sure.” 

It was short-lived reassurance. There was a loud crash as James burst into the room through an access door a few feet away. When they saw him fight his way through the mangled door, the group ran back into the tunnels and made their way to the subway. Angel led the way through the throng of people and up the stairs to the platform just as the train pulled up. Angel spared a glance at Spike. 

_Take Fred back to the hotel. We’ll catch up with you soon._

Spike nodded. With Fred’s hand still in his, he disappeared amidst the crowd. Angel watched until he couldn’t make out the blonde hair anymore. Then, he directed Cordelia towards the train. 

James ran down the UP escalator, pushing people out of his was just as Angel pulled Cordelia through the open doors into the train. James was hot on their heels when the doors closed right in front of him. When the train pulled out of the station, Cordelia felt safe enough to stick out her tongue at James, with the added safety of clinging to Angel’s back. 

“What a creep,” Cordelia said, not worried about the possibility that James had jumped on the exterior of the train. “Why did Spike leave with Fred?” 

“I sent him back to the hotel,” Angel replied as he looked thoughtful at the ceiling. 

“Well, why didn’t you send me back with him?” she inquired. 

Angel glanced at her then back at the ceiling. “Would you have gone with him?” 

“Well, no, but you could have offered!” Cordelia said indignantly. “Should we get off at the next station and double back? He won’t expect that. Or should we stay put ’til the end of the line and put as much distance between us . . .” 

“Shh!” Angel hissed as he concentrated on the ceiling and what he could hear. There was a clunking sound coming from the roof. 

“He couldn’t possibly . . .” Cordelia started to say in disbelief. 

Angel pushed Cordelia behind him just as James crashed through the window at the end of the compartment. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, An hour later_**

The moment Angel got into the hotel he made a beeline for Spike and found the blonde vampire in Fred’s room keeping her company while she wrote on the walls. At least his boy made it back to the hotel all right. Having to deal with James accusing him of not loving Buffy enough because he still existed without her had opened old wounds. He talked it over with Cordelia and finally come to some sort of peace concerning his relationship with Buffy. He felt completely prepared to move on with Spike. There were no other women between them. Buffy and Darla were gone. Drusilla was safe somewhere on the other side of the world. He’d finally come to terms with his feelings towards the slayer. 

Up until now there had always been a sense that something was holding him back from giving himself completely to Spike. There was always something else or someone else that required his attention more than he could give to his mate. He had to give props to Spike for staying with him this long. They had a few rough patches since he completed the claims, but nothing was in the way of them being together anymore. 

Angel leaned against the doorjamb and listened to Spike tell Fred a story about some of the fun, lighter moments of their past together. When Spike got a part where Angelus had attacked someone from behind, Angel stepped into the room. Spike saw him in his peripheral vision but didn’t stop the story. As Spike wove the tale to a captivated Fred while she wrote on the walls, Angel silently moved up behind her. 

“Then Angelus grabbed him and . . .” Spike was saying. 

Angel surprised Fred by grabbing her around the waist. She let out a startled shriek, dropping the marker on the bed as he lifted her up and swung her around. After a few turns, he set her on her feet and kissed her cheek. When she giggled and pushed him away, he fell back on the bed beside Spike. 

“Kye-rumption,” Fred smiled as she looked between the two vampires. 

“What’s that?” Spike asked. 

“It’s the one nice word I remember from Pylea,” Fred replied. 

“What’s it mean?” Angel asked. 

“It’s when two great heroes meet on the field of battle and recognize their mutual fate,” she grinned and then cringed, “It’s also a kind of grog made out of ox dung, but that’s archaic.” 

Spike made a face at that. “I’m no hero. The hero thing is Angel’s gig and there’s no mutual fate to be had with us. It’s not like we’re going to die together or anything. Though, I may get fed up and stake him one day.” 

“Stop denying it, Spike,” Fred chastised. “In the short time I’ve known you, which has been all of . . . a day – it’s evident to me that you and Angel have an entwined destiny. I don’t know how far back you two go --” 

“Around a hundred and twenty-five years,” Angel filled in. 

“But, I’m not blind or deaf. I see the way you two regard each other and the way your voice sounds when you talk about each other. It’s Moira,” Fred stated as if she came to a final decision. 

“Huh?” Spike asked, confused. 

“Who’s Moira?” Angel asked then looked at his mate, “Is there someone you forgot to mention?” 

“Moira is the deep physical attraction between two larger than life souls,” she explained. 

Angel gave Spike a stinging smack on the thigh. “See, I told you she heard us!” 

“I can’t help it if the ponce wants my body,” Spike said, shrugging. “But, I don’t have a soul.” 

“Heard you do what?” Fred asked, confused. 

“Nothing!” they chorused. 

“Okay, then,” she said slightly stunned. She gave them a peculiar look. They were acting funny. It must be a vampire thing, though she had never seen Angel act so shifty before. 

The dark vampire sat up and patted his leg. “Come here, Fred. We have to talk about what happened today.” 

“Bloody hell, you aren’t going to explain it to her,” Spike scoffed. 

“Not about that!” Angel growled in irritation. 

“About what?” Fred asked more lost than ever. 

“The incident with the vampire we were fighting,” Angel clarified. He guided her to sit on his lap and fumbled around for the best way to explain what happened. “Look Fred, I know you trust me and are starting to trust Spike, but most vampires are dangerous. They will drain you as soon as look at you.” 

“I know,” Fred agreed. “You and Spike are heroes, you help people.” 

“I told you, pet, I’m no hero. I’m just muscle when it’s needed,” Spike contradicted. He sat up with his full attention on her. His penetrating, blue eyes made her uncomfortable and she squirmed a little in Angel’s lap. 

“Listen, Fred, I’m just as dangerous as the vampires Angel’s trying to warn you against,” he said as he shifted into his demon’s face, adding through a mouthful of fangs, “I don’t have a soul like he does.” 

Fred looked at Spike’s ridged face with the most trusting expression that it would have broke Angel’s heart had it been beating. He could just imagine how Spike was reacting to it with all his human emotions in tact. 

“Spike, I just know you would never harm me,” she said with such confidence than Angel sighed in resignation. 

“That is what I mean. You trust the two of us, maybe a little too much. I feel you are making us both into something we aren’t,” Angel said apprehensively. 

“No, I’m not. You are both heroes,” she declared adamantly. “You would save me if I was in danger.” 

“Well yes, but there are no other vampires like that. Each and every other one you should stake without hesitation,” Angel said resolutely, “Even me, if it should come to that.” 

Spike was just touching the tip of the iceberg in telling Fred about Angelus when Angel walked in. He hadn’t gotten to the part of Angel’s occasional tendency to lose his soul yet. 

He hurriedly added, “Fact being luv, I think you should be in training. Maybe you and the prom queen could workout together. She is a Sunnydale survivor after all.” 

“I don’t know,” Fred said unsure of herself. “I’m not courageous and pretty like Cordy is.” 

Spike reached over and chucked her on the chin lightly. “What did I say about not selling yourself short? You’re a pretty girl, going to be breaking hearts soon, luv. You’re brave too. You survived in a hell dimension for five years. Not many people I know who could do that.” 

Angel looked at Spike amazed that he was giving Fred a pep talk about being brave and courageous for surviving Pylea. The blonde vampire had never failed to surprise him over the years. Spike seemed to be taken with Fred. He watched out for her and talked to her like a sister and a friend. Something burst inside Angel that was akin to pride for his boy. It was one more reason in a growing list of how they could make their relationship work, as long as they could remain amicable with each other. 

“We’re going to go downstairs, Fred. You’re free to come join us,” Angel said as he slid her off his lap. He stood up and headed to the door. 

He turned back to see Spike kiss Fred on the cheek and her face turn beet red in embarrassment. Angel’s mouth quirked up in a small smile as Spike chuckled at her reaction. The blonde vampire followed him out the door and down the stairs to the lobby. 

“You really ought to think about getting that elevator fixed mate. This walking down two flights of stairs is ridiculous when there’s an elevator to be used,” Spike complained. 

“You just want an excuse to spend more of my money,” Angel grumbled. 

“Well, yeah,” Spike smirked. 

“How’s Fred?” Cordelia asked when she saw them come down the steps. 

“She’s all right, considering,” Angel replied as Spike headed for the kitchen and a mug of blood. “We talked over what happened and I think she’ll be coming out of her room any decade now.” 

“How about you?” Cordelia asked. 

“I’m o --” 

“And don’t say ‘okay’,” she cut in. “Angel, please. I know you. Ever since you’ve come back from your grief trip I can tell that something’s not right. And, and _obviously_ it’s not. Buffy’s . . . dead – and I don’t mean to diminish that. I miss her too. I just want to say: I know that James with all his Romeo and Juliet madness, opened up a lot of wounds for you, but you’ll be okay.” 

“I am okay,” Angel said assertively. 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“That I _am_ okay. That losing Buffy didn’t kill me. That I could deal with it. In all those years, no one mattered like she did. Spike is a part of me. He’s my boy, my mate. That will never change. He’s become an integral part of my life, my other half I guess. He understands the demon. But, she gave me a reason to work towards my redemption, to fight evil every day. Now, she’s gone . . . forever.” 

“And you’re still here,” Cordelia said sadly. 

“Yeah,” Angel said in a melancholy tone. 

She hugged him unexpectedly then. He returned the hug and stepped back as Spike came out of the kitchen and handed him a mug of blood. 

“Are we done with the touchy feely stuff?” he asked. 

“I think so,” Angel said with a small smile to Cordelia who returned it with a toothpaste commercial smile of her own. 

“So, can we get back to work now?” she asked. 

“Yeah, sure,” Angel replied, taking a sip of the blood. “There’s work?” 

The door opened and Gunn and Wesley strode in, heading for the weapons cabinet. 

“What do you know about Nester demons?” Wesley asked as he grabbed a weapon. 

“Well, they like to live in the walls of people’s homes. They hatch several times a year, and . . . don’t you have to kill the queen or something?” Angel inquired as he set the half-empty mug down, going for his own weapon and grabbing one for Spike. 

Gunn handed Cordelia a dagger. “Yeah, and if you don’t they infest again, worse than ever.” 

“We killed a bunch of them in Hancock Park a couple of months ago,” Cordelia filled in. 

“I don’t think we got the queen,” Wesley surmised. 

“Let’s go find out,” Angel said, handing a knife to Spike as the blonde fell into step with him. The others fell in line as they walked out of the hotel to their next assignment.


	3. Chapter 35-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 35-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 2)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Spike was using the new laptop he conned Angel into purchasing when they were in Florida. He lay across the bed on his stomach with a sheet draped over his waist. He’d read the same web page five times now on the count of Angel teasing him one way or another. 

“What do you think of this one?” Spike asked, clicking on the image to make it bigger. 

Angel licked up his spine, over his shoulder and looked at the shower stall in question. “Hmm, is that like the one in the mansion?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“How about . . . we go to Sunnydale . . . rip that shower out and put it here?” Angel suggested, trailing his fingers over each ridge in Spike’s spine. 

“How about . . . no?” Spike suggested. “I may need a vacation home.” 

“A vacation from what?” Angel asked. 

“You're overbearing, brooding . . .” Spike started to say. 

“I’m not overbearing,” Angel said. 

Spike shifted position and gave him a strange look. “You do remember what you’re like without that cursed soul right?” 

“Well yeah, but overbearing isn’t something I’d use to describe Angelus.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Spike scoffed and returned to shower searching. 

Angel grabbed his hip and flipped him over beside the laptop, tugging the sheet that also covered him from the waist down. He leaned down and licked the skin under Spike’s chin. 

“You never had a problem with me being overbearing before,” Angel teased. 

“Do you have Alzheimer’s in your old age?” Spike inquired. “You only managed to mellow out in the last few months. Your behavior has been one of extremes, from extreme brooding to extremely boorish to extreme bastard. Then, there was that period of extreme lap dog-slash-whipping boy to a slayer.” 

“Keep it up Spike and I’ll hide all your sweets,” Angel threatened. 

“You wouldn’t!” Spike said in mock indignation. 

“Yup, those Milky Ways, the Peanut M &Ms, the peanut butter. Which if you think about it, would be a good thing for me because I can have clean sheets that don’t stick together,” Angel pondered out loud. 

“I _did not_ get peanut butter on the bed, you did that,” Spike countered. 

Angel thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “Nope. Don’t think it was me. But, who am I to point fingers? I’d rather do other things with them.” 

He reached under the sheet, wrapped his fingers around Spike’s erection and stroked the length while he watched his boy’s response. This was becoming another favorite ritual. Like the oral sex wake up call, Angel loved to watch the emotions play across Spike’s face while he teased the lithe body. 

Spike groaned and raised his hips in languid movement, pushing into Angel’s grip. He laced his fingers in Angel’s hair when he felt blunt teeth pinch his nipple. Spike tugged back on the dark head and guided the elder vampire up to kiss him. As he slipped his tongue into Angel’s mouth, he raised his knees up on either side of the other vampire’s narrow hips, and then flipped them over so that he straddled Angel’s waist. The laptop shook with the movement of the mattress, but didn’t fall. 

Spike broke the kiss and looked down at his Sire. “I am trying to find you a state-of-the-art shower and you keep distracting me.” 

“I’m sorry?” Angel said with a raised brow. 

“No you’re not,” Spike smirked.  
  
“I’m not?”  
  
“You’re impossible, but not sorry. I feel my only recourse is to tie you up so that I can finish ordering your shower,” Spike said casually.  
  
“Oh, do you now, childe?” Angel looked at him curiously. “Anyway, what’s more important, me or the shower?”  
  
“Well, you wanted the shower,” Spike reminded him. “So right now, the shower.”  
  
“You’re saying that a shower is more important than me?” Angel teased.  
  
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?”  
  
“Not right now!” Angel growled in annoyance.  
  
“You’re growling over the shower?” Spike arched a brow.  
  
In response, Angel pulled the slighter body closer, buried his face in the curve of Spike’s neck and growled into the skin as he rolled them over next to the laptop. The younger vampire gave an answering growl and scratched his nails down his Sire’s broad back. Feeling the nails, Angel ground against the body under him. 

Angel pulled away slightly and turned his head to look at the screen showing a listing of shower stalls with thumbnails and descriptions. He reached over and started paging through them. Spike sucked on Angel’s earlobe and skimmed his nails over his ass. Angel’s dark eyes were still focused on the screen when nimble fingers slid along the cleft of his ass and teased the small opening. He let out a purring growl at the touch. 

“I thought you wanted to do something other than look for a shower?” Spike chuckled. 

“Yeah, well something caught my attention,” Angel replied. 

“More important than me?” Spike mocked. When he received no answer, he wiggled a finger into the tight opening to the first knuckle and moved it around. 

Angel hissed at the small invasion and growled, “Dirty boy.” 

The teasing wasn’t anything new lately. Spike incorporated it in their foreplay somewhere in Europe when Angel was feeling adventurous. He never went so far as to penetrate with anything other than his fingers. He tried it with his tongue a few times. He’d never heard so many expletives come from Angel. 

After a few typing clicks on the keyboard, Angel fumbled for a moment to shut down the laptop. He turned his full attention on his childe, “There, the shower is ordered.” 

“How long did they give?” 

“It’ll be a couple of days. We can have the gang help install it, and maybe actually have a reason for that preservation grant that David Nabbitt insisted on,” Angel replied. 

“Only took you two hundred years to join humanity,” Spike chuckled. 

“Don’t start with me. I already have Cordy doing it,” Angel groaned. 

“Poor put upon Sire,” Spike mocked. 

“I am damn it,” Angel grumbled. 

Spike chuckled as he pulled Angel closer, kissing him. He rolled Angel over until he was straddling the elder vampire. He trailed nipping kisses down Angel’s throat, licking the skin. 

“You don’t realize what I have to deal with, Spike,” Angel continued to lament. 

Spike rose up to look at his Sire. “Tell me,” he breathed raggedly before returning to his exploration of Angel’s chest. 

The dark vampire tried to think of great examples. He had them, but couldn’t remember one when his mate’s tongue was distracting him. He glanced down in time to see that wicked tongue flick over his nipple. “Uh, well, there’s the brooding over what I’ve done.” 

“Hmm-mm,” Spike acknowledged as he moved to the other nipple. 

“And the --” Angel hissed when the younger vampire bit the nub. “The fighting demons all the time and worrying about the next apocalypse.” 

“I think that’s Percy’s job,” Spike mumbled against smooth skin. 

“You don’t believe me, do you? Not even if I mentioned Wolfram  & Hart,” Angel pouted. 

“I believe you, pet. Had a hard life, you did,” Spike said casually as he moved between his Sire’s legs. He wrapped one hand around thick, hardened, velvety flesh and teased Angel’s anal ring with the fingers of his other hand. 

“Spike! Jeez…” Angel hissed, bowing under Spike’s touch. He groaned when two long fingers slipped inside to rub over his prostate. 

Angel saw the smirk spread across Spike’s face at his reaction to being penetrated. His hand shot out and grabbed the back of the blonde head, pulling Spike closer and kissed him. In the process, Spike had to readjust his hold on his Sire’s cock. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**

Wesley and Gunn stood at the reception desk, eating Chinese take-out from containers with chopsticks. They both rolled their eyes when two growls echoed through cavernous hotel. The sounds were nothing new, especially since Angel and Spike returned from their trip abroad. The Dolby surround sound of vampire coupling was starting to be commonplace in the Hyperion. 

“As I was saying, Gunn, you misunderstand,” Wesley began. “I mean,” he took a bite of his dinner before going on. “I’m not saying that we act differently. I just think we should be gentle in our inter . . .” He stopped when he saw Cordelia walk past. “Evening Cordy.” 

Gunn waved at her with his chopsticks and gave her a big smile. “Hey, Cordelia.” 

Cordelia looked at them as she walked by. When she was out of earshot, Wesley turned to Gunn, “How was that? It felt quite genuine I think.” 

“B-plus, C-minus,” said a small voice from behind him. 

Gunn and Wesley turned to see Fred sitting Indian-style under the folding table the team had set up as a desk for Angel a few months ago. She had her own box of Chinese take-out. 

“A girl can tell,” Fred said between bites. 

“Fred?” Wesley prompted. “If you feel comfortable enough grading our sincerity,” he crouched down to her level, “How about joining us for the rest of the meal? Isn’t that the point of coming downstairs?” 

Fred swallowed hard at the idea. “I guess that’d be okay.” She crawled out from under the table and joined them at the counter, picking at the food in her container with her fingers. 

“Ah, I don’t mean to rush you back into the twenty-first century, but about using some chopsticks. Or a fork, maybe,” Gunn said as he picked up the utensil and offered it to her. “You remember forks, don’t you?” 

Fred took it. “Sure. Who could forget? Fork, pitch fork, fork it over, fork in the road,” she rambled. She looked forlorn. “One I’m not ready to take yet.” 

The guys perked up when Cordelia walked back through the lobby. 

“Hello again,” Wesley greeted. 

“Nice day,” Gunn added. 

Cordelia stopped and glared at them. “I know what you’re doing.” 

Gunn swallowed and asked, “You do?” 

“Told you,” Fred whispered. 

Cordelia sneered. “You’re being all _fake_ nice and _super_ -sensitive like ‘poor Cordelia, she’s _one edge_ because she _hasn’t_ had a vision in a while.’ Well, I have information for you: I look forward to my next vision.” 

“You do?” Wesley asked skeptically. 

“Well, why shouldn’t I?” Cordelia scoffed. “I mean, the Powers That Be have seen fit to choose me – who am I to refuse?” 

“Great!” Fred said. “How about if you use that vision thing to find out where Angel’s at right now?” 

Gunn snickered at that. Judging from the sounds echoing through the hotel, it was obvious where the vampire was. 

“Cause I don’t care?” Cordelia snapped. 

“Ah, what Cordelia means,” Gunn said to soften the seer’s words, “Is that she doesn’t choose to have a vision. The Powers send them to her when they got info to share.” 

“Think of them as gifts,” Wesley added around a bite of food. 

“Yes, having-my-head-torn-open-and-hot-lava-poured-into-my-skull gifts,” Cordelia said sarcastically. 

Fred looked between all three of them with wide eyes. Her new companions were all so interesting: two vampires, a seer who saw the helpless, and two strapping men. The moment was interrupted by a new voice. Even the sounds that were echoing in the hotel stopped. 

“Excuse me.” 

Everyone turned to see a well-dressed man standing in the lobby with a briefcase in his hand. 

“Oh. Hi,” Cordelia said as she sized the man up. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you sneak up on us.” She glanced down at his shoes. “It must have been those tastefully expensive Gucci Loafers, totally our fault.” 

“He’s not a client,” Wesley said ominously as he moved around the desk. “He’s Gavin Park, attorney with Wolfram  & Hart.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Gavin said cordially. He spotted Fred trying to make herself smaller behind the desk. “New player?” 

Wesley stepped into Gavin’s line of vision, blocking his view of Fred. “Well, now that we’ve had this lovely reintroduction. I suggest you piss off.” 

Angel and Spike stumbled down the stairs in their race to get to the refrigerator first. Spike stopped on the entrance landing of the stairs when he saw an unfamiliar person standing in the lobby. Angel collided into him and grabbed him around the chest for balance. 

“Is there a problem?” Angel asked as he watched the visual showdown over Spike’s shoulder. 

“No, no problem. Mr. Park was just leaving,” Wesley said pretentiously. 

Angel moved around Spike and stepped down to the lobby with the blonde following him. They stopped a few feet away from Gavin and glowered at him. 

“No. Actually, I just arrived,” Gavin corrected Wesley’s assumption. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and turned to Angel, addressing him. “This is a list of fifty-seven city code violations for your hotel, including earthquake proofing, asbestos and termites.” He tossed the papers on the settee. “Be advised that I have filed a copy of this with the city planning office.” 

“Gee, fifty-seven,” Angel said unconcerned. He glanced at Spike. “Is that a lot?” 

When he didn’t receive the worried reaction that he was hoping for, Gavin shrugged and focused on Spike. “New player?” 

Angel immediately stepped into his line of vision. “Not anyone you should be worried about. He doesn’t play well with others.” He took a menacing step forward. “Now, I was on my way to get dinner. I suggest you leave before my hunger forces me to open a vein.” 

“I’ll be in touch,” Gavin said and walked up the few stairs to the leave. 

“Yeah, okay,” Cordelia replied nonchalantly, then mumbled, “Minion of darkness . . . Satan’s toady . . . But that is a _nice_ suit. Did you see that suit?” 

After watching the sleazy lawyer exit his building, Angel turned and saw a pleasant surprise. “Fred! Good to see you out and about.” 

“It is, isn’t it? Out and about,” she replied cheerily. She leaned forward and gave Angel a surreptitious look. “I’ve been forking with Gunn.” 

Angel looked at Gunn with a raised brow. 

“Something you want to tell us, mate?” Spike asked. 

Gunn shook his head. Just then, Cordelia screamed as a vision struck her. Angel and Wesley managed to catch her before she fell to the floor. 

“Are you all right? Talk to me,” Angel said anxiously. 

“There is a coin and . . . uhm . . . two clawed things, it’s in China town I think, an herbalist shop,” Cordelia gasped. 

Wesley and Gunn headed for the books, leaving Angel and Spike with Cordelia. She jerked back with a gasp when Angel touched her shoulder, helping her up. Spike raised a scarred brow at her. 

She gave them a false smile. “I’m okay. I’m fine. It just caught me off guard a little.” Angel looked skeptical. “Ah, go find the coin,” she said as she walked away. “It has a hole in it.” 

Angel and Spike watched her leave. Spike had a curious expression on his face. Angel looked more perplexed. 

“How much of that do you think was the truth?” Spike asked. 

They watched her go into the bathroom and close the door. Then, Wesley followed her and knocked on the door. It didn’t open. He asked a question and received an answer through the wooden panel. Angel’s brow furrowed. Cordelia was acting strange. 

“Has she ever been known to barricade herself in the bathroom after a vision?” Spike inquired. 

“Hmm,” Angel acknowledged thoughtfully. He squeezed Spike’s shoulder and pushed him towards the kitchen. “Let’s get something to eat and figure out what the hell we’re supposed to be searching for or fighting.” 

In the manager’s office, Wesley stood at the desk currently covered with research books. Fred paced behind him perusing a thick phone book. 

After a while, Wesley broke the silence. “Anything of interest yet, Fred?” 

“Oh, sure, lots,” she said in wonder. “‘H’ is a fascinating letter. Helicopters, helium, helmets, hernias . . .” 

“Did you happen to notice ‘herbs’ in your wanderings?” he asked, amused at her inquisitive mind. 

She gave him a huge grin. “I did.” He looked at her expectantly. “Oh, right. There are, ah, let’s see . . . five herbalist shops in Chinatown.” 

Angel and Spike walked into the office, each with a glass of blood. Angel took a drink. “We got a name or a face for these things yet?” 

“Circling,” Wesley said distractedly. “I think we might be looking either at a Wan Shan Dhole or a Cantonese Fook-Beast.” 

“Just point me in the direction of something to kill,” Spike said. “I haven’t had a decent brawl in a while.” 

“You had one last week with James and Elisabeth,” Angel reminded him. 

“That was last week. It’s been a while. The joints are starting to get rusty,” Spike said, rotating his shoulders. 

“You could have gone down to the basement if you needed the exercise,” Angel grumbled. 

“Was too busy doing another exercise upstairs, wasn’t I?” Spike quipped. 

If Angel could blush, he’d be ten shades of red after that comment. However, he was saved from total embarrassment when Gunn walked in carrying a baseball bat and rucksack slung over one shoulder. 

“I say we figure out what these things are after we find that coin. We’re burning moonlight,” Gunn said. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Wesley agreed. 

“Hey Fred? I need you to do something for me,” Angel said. 

When Fred gave him a huge smile and looked hopeful, Spike smirked. “She’d bear you children if you hinted at it. Ahh, the devotion of a love-struck girl.” 

“Spike . . .” Angel warned. 

“Luckily, I’m passed the ‘Angelus is God’ idea,” Spike added. 

“Spike . . .” Angel growled. 

“Wot?” 

“Do you need to do that? We’re lucky she’s out of her bedroom and you want to tease her like that?” Angel asked irritated. 

“But it grounds her. She’s still in a bit of denial, luv,” Spike protested. 

Angel didn’t reply, instead he headed for the bathroom and knocked on the door. 

Inside, Cordelia opened an aspirin bottle, took two and put the bottle back. She removed her shirt and turned to look at her left shoulder in the mirror. There were three claw marks that matched the five marks across her stomach. She jumped when she heard the knock. 

“I told you, it’s about finding the coin,” she said through the door. 

“It’s me,” Angel called back. 

“I’m fine!” she assured him. 

“I’m not leaving until you open the door,” Angel said. When the door still didn’t open, he tried again. “I mean it Cordelia, open up.” 

Cordelia shrugged her shirt back on to hide the scratches and opened the door, giving Angel a bright smile. “See? I’m fine.” 

Angel stopped her from closing the door again. “They’re getting worse aren’t they?” 

“I’m feeling better. Once I get a little protein in me, I’ll be good as new. Honest,” she tried to sound confident. “Now, go de-claw those things.” 

“I’m having Fred take you home,” Angel stated. 

“I don’t need to go home,” Cordelia insisted. 

“There is nothing else you can do here,” Angel said. “Get some rest, okay?” 

“No . . .” Cordelia protested. 

“O-okay?” Angel repeated, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. 

“Okay,” Cordelia sighed resignedly before closing the door. 

Angel went back to the lobby where Wesley, Gunn and Spike were gathering weapons. Fred was sitting at the reception desk. 

He leaned on it and asked her, “Can you take Cordelia home and just . . . stay with her?” 

“Oh, sure Angel,” Fred said. 

“If you need anything call me,” Angel said. When she agreed to do as he said and left to get her car keys, Angel went to the weapons cabinet to get his own weapon and followed the gang out to his car. 

**************************

Angel and Spike sat in the back of the convertible with Gunn driving and Wesley in the passenger seat as they traveled the dark streets of L.A. The vampires each had a hand on the other’s thigh as they looked out opposite sides of the car. 

“Five herb shops in Chinatown and we’ve been to four. How come whatever we’re searching for is always in the last place we look?” Gunn complained as he drove. 

“I suppose it is one of the unwritten laws of being a dick,” Wesley replied. When Gunn gave him a sidelong glance, he emphasized, “Ah, a sleuth, a gumshoe, a Sherlock.” 

“All I know is: you use the word ‘dick’ again and we’re going to have a problem,” Gunn warned. “So, what is the name of this place anyway?” 

“Van Hoa Dong,” Wesley recited. “It should be up there on the left.” He turned to address Angel. “How was Cordelia when you spoke to her?” 

“She said she was fine,” Angel said doubtfully. 

Wesley noticed the tone and turned around to look at Angel squarely. “You don’t believe her?” 

Just then, Gunn saw the shop sign and pulled around the corner to park. “All right, here we go. Next time we’re hitting the last place first.” He stopped the car down the street from the herb shop. They all got out of the car and headed towards the shop. 

Inside, a white-haired elderly gentleman was measuring out a powdery substance. An elderly woman brought him another jar as Angel, Spike, Gunn and Wesley walked into the store. 

The woman glanced up and saw the two vampires. “Your kind not welcome here,” was spoken in halting English. 

Gunn, thinking she had spoken to him, became indignant. “Since when can’t a brother buy some Ginseng Tea?” 

“Not you,” the elderly man said and pointed at the two vampires. “Them! Vampire not welcome.” 

“This is a public facility and any being may enter,” Wesley stated. “We’re looking for an ancient coin.” 

“Yeah, it’s about this big,” Spike held up his hands to form a circle, “With a hole in it.” 

The elderly couple exchanged a look and then let out a cry as they flipped over the counter and landed in a martial arts stance. 

“Ah, so you think some fancy flipping and a little hollering can intimidate guys like us?” Gunn commented. Suddenly, their hands turned into long, gray claws. “Okay, that creeps me out.” 

“You two take grandma, Spike and I will take the old man,” Angel said. 

A big fight ensued during which they managed to avoid serious injury from the razor-sharp claws. Angel and Spike was switch hitting on the elderly man, ducking or dodging the talons. On the other side of the shop, Wesley managed to knock the elderly woman over the head while Gunn kept her distracted with his wooden baseball bat that he had sharpened to a point for dusting vampires. Back in the vampires’ corner, Angel grabbed hold of the sash around the elderly man’s waist. Spike stepped aside as Angel gave it a hard pull that sent the man spinning through the air. Spike watched as the old man crashed into the shelves along one wall and landed in a heap on the floor. 

“Damn. Grandma and grandpa got game,” Gunn panted. 

“Yeah, I know,” Wesley agreed. “Now if we could just find that coin before they come to.” 

“Guys, over here,” Angel said. 

Wesley and Gunn walked over to wear Angel stood over the elderly man. Spike crouched over and snapped the necklace off the man’s neck. He held up to Angel, the street light shining through the windows shone through the hole in the center. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_ **

Cordelia walked out of her bedroom, stretching her arms. “Okay! All ready for bed. Face washed, teeth brushed . . . tired, tired!” she said as she gave a fake yawn. “You can go now!” 

She looked around the living room, noticing the lack of an audience for her performance. She searched the rooms for Fred, finding her sitting under the kitchen table eating peanut butter straight out of the jar. 

“Okay, you can go now Fred,” Cordelia said confidently. 

“Sorry, it’s been so long,” Fred apologized, holding the jar up. 

“That’s not a problem.” Cordelia helped her up and put the lid back on the jar. “Here. Take it with you. Enjoy that peanutty goodness in the comfort of your _own_ home.” 

“Hey. Wait. Angel said . . .” Fred started to object as Cordelia herded her toward the door. 

“I know. He said that you should wait until he calls,” Cordelia finished. Fred nodded in affirmation. “But as you can see, I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine. I’m right as rain.” 

As Cordelia opened the door, Fred turned around to face her. “I-I never understood that saying: ‘right as rain’. How is rain right? Or wrong, for that matter? Okay, I suppose if there’s a flood it’s wrong. And speaking of floods, or maybe just being overwhelmed – what’s it like to have a vision?” 

“Wow,” Cordelia sounded amazed. “You know, next to you, I’m downright linear.” 

“Do you see things or smell them or just _know_ – in your stomach know? Like in fifth grade when I saw Grayson Wells and I just knew we’d go steady and even though we never did, looking back on it, it feels like we did. Is it like that?” Fred said excitedly. 

After a moment to absorb what Fred’s run-on thought, Cordelia said, “Okay! Time to go.” She ushered Fred towards the door again. 

“Has . . . has anyone ever told you you’re exactly like Lassie? Yeah. You’re like Angel’s Lassie. Sure, he does most of the saving but it’s your visions that tell him that Timmy is trapped in the well or the robbers are hiding in the barn. He really needs and depends on you,” Fred said. 

“Well, thanks,” Cordelia said derisively. “I’d be flattered except for the Lassie being a _dog_ part. Dennis, a little help here?” The door of the apartment swung open. “See? I’m not alone, I have a ghost.” She pushed Fred out the door. “Bye! We’ll have to – to . . .” Just then, she was hit by another visions and dropped to the floor. 

Fred crouched down beside her. “Are you all right?” 

She turned an cataleptic Cordelia over onto her back. Boils materialized along the side of Cordelia’s face. Fred covered her mouth in shock. She put the peanut butter aside and rushed to the phone. She dug into her jeans pocket for the slip of paper Angel had given her. There was a phone number written on it. Fred picked up the phone and dialed it. 

“Yello,” a British voice answered. 

“Spike, w-w-where’s Angel?” Fred asked with a shaky voice. 

“He’s here, we’re on our way back with that coin thing-a-ma-bob,” he said. 

“Hurry,” Fred said anxiously as she turned to look at Cordelia still lying on the floor unconscious. “Something’s happened to Cordy.” 

“We’re on our way, pet,” Spike assured her before hanging up. 

Fred hung up and hurried to Cordelia’s side to see if she could revive her. 

Ten minutes later, the four men rushed the doorway, bumping into each other in an attempt to fit through it two at a time. When they finally got into the apartment, Gunn shut the door as Spike helped Fred to her feet and out of the way. Angel picked Cordelia up and carried her back to her bedroom. 

A while later Cordelia had come to and sat up with Angel beside her. Her disfigured face was covered by her hair. Gunn, Wesley, and Fred stood near the door. Spike leaned against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Sure, she was a bitch and Queen C from Sunnydale High, but as far as Spike could tell, Cordelia had changed drastically from her days of high school popularity yore. Where Buffy hadn’t gotten past her ‘I can be a bitch because I have the weight of the world on my shoulders’ attitude before she died, Cordelia had turned into a person who cared more about the lives around her than the next Prada shoe sale. In terms of Cordelia Chase, that was a drastic change. Even Spike noticed her transformation over the last two years he’d been with Angel. He watched with a curious expression as she described what she saw in her last vision. 

“A demon, an icky, boil-covered demon,” Cordelia was explaining. “It was a storefront downtown on the corner of fifth and something. And there was a key. I should probably draw you a picture.” 

She started to get up and for a pen and paper when Angel pulled her back down. “Cordy . . .” He gently pushed her hair back from her face to reveal the boils she’d been trying to hide. 

“Oh, God,” Wesley said, horrified at the sight. 

“Bloody hell, pet,” Spike commented as he moved forward for a better look at the blemish. 

“Cordy, we should talk about this,” Angel said as he examined the boils. “You can’t ignore what’s happening.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. What’s there to say? Except ‘gross’, ‘yuck’, and ‘unclean,’” she said, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. She looked at the others who avoided meeting her eyes. “Like you’re not thinking it.” 

“Cordy, it’s not about vanity. We’re talking about your life here,” Spike said, his voice deficient of his usual mockery. 

“Has this ever happened before?” Angel asked. 

After a moment of contemplation, she pulled the sleeve of her shirt up to reveal one set of claw marks. 

“Earlier tonight,” she said. 

Wesley crouched down for a closer look at her cheek. “Oh, whoa, are you saying your vision had a physical manifestation?” 

“Stating the obvious, Percy,” Spike said glibly. 

Cordelia nodded. “I feel like a sideshow freak with you all looking at me like this.” 

“Well, you’re the prettiest sideshow freak I’ve seen,” Spike smirked and was rewarded with a small smile. 

“Did this new one have anything to do with . . .” Wesley started to say, sounding more like a Watcher. 

“The yuck monster?” she finished, pointing at her face. “Yeah.” She turned her head and caught sight of herself in the mirror just beyond Angel. She got up to take a closer look. “This must be a mistake. The Powers wouldn’t do this to me on purpose. I mean, I’m a part of their team.” She turned around to face the group. “Why would anybody do this on purpose?” 

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Angel asked. 

The group filed out and Angel insisted that Cordelia lay down before leaving her, closing the bedroom door behind him and joined the others waiting for him in the living room. 

“We have to figure this out and now,” Angel said anxiously. “Anybody? Gunn?” 

“I had this auntie who used to get this nasty crusty stuff on the back of her neck every summer – turned out she was allergic to shellfish,” Gunn offered. 

Angel and Spike stared at him, blinking owlishly. After a moment, Angel found his voice. “That was helpful.” Spike just shook his head. 

“Why would the Powers choose to communicate with Cordy in this way?” Wesley asked. 

“Did something like this happen with Doyle?” Spike asked. “’Cause if this is just a phase or . . .” 

“No, nothing like this happened with Doyle. But then, he was part demon. Maybe it was different, maybe being part demon gave him immunity,” Angel replied. 

“Maybe we could ask them,” Fred spoke up. Everyone turned to look at her. “Y-you used the word ‘communicate’ which got me thinking. Everything’s made of energy, right? Light waves, radio waves, x-rays, even brainwaves are all electric energy. If Cordelia is receiving visions from the Powers That Be, they’re being communicated somehow. Maybe we could figure out the frequency and trace the calls.” 

“Yes, of course,” Wesley smiled. “Well done, Fred. Gunn, I need you and Fred to go to the hotel and get me some books. I’ll make a list. We need to research that Chinese coin. Angel, you and Spike find that demon and get the key.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Angel protested. 

“That’s okay I can fight the demon on my own. Always wanted to save a damsel in distress,” Spike said as he headed for the door. 

Wesley moved closer to Angel. “Cordy’s had two visions in the same night. You saw what it’s doing to her. If the Powers That Be are taking such extreme measures, then we have to assume that the coin and the key are of great significance.” 

“So is Cordelia!” Angel stressed. “If I go out and find that key, how can I help her?” 

“By trusting me,” Wesley said. “I have an idea.” 

Spike walked back to Angel and grabbed his shoulder, steering his Sire towards the door with him. “Let’s go, big guy. Cordy’s safe in the hands of Wesley,” adding to himself, “We hope.” 

“Spike!” Angel whined when he heard the muttered words. 

“Don’t mind me, pet. Let’s go. The quicker we find that key, the quicker we can get back here,” Spike said as he pushed Angel out the door ahead of him and closing the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 35-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 35-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 2)_

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles_**

Angel’s convertible screeched to a halt at a street corner. He and Spike jumped out over the car doors with swords in hand. Being closer, Angel kicked the door open and walked in. The shopkeeper looked up from his task at the noise. 

“I want the key and I want it now,” Angel demanded. 

“Oh, w-which key might that be?” the man stammered. He reached over and turned on the overhead track lighting to reveal the walls littered with keys and blanks used in the duplication of keys. 

When Angel only looked around in amazement, the man asked, “Did you lose the original?” 

Spike pulled Cordy’s drawing out of Angel’s jacket pocket and handed to the shopkeeper. “It looks like this mate.” 

The man inspected the drawing. “Ah. Yes, of course. This will just take a moment.” 

Angel was still looking at the walls as the man reached under the counter and pressed a buzzer. At the sound, a boil-covered demon dropped down behind the vampires, swinging a sword. Spike and Angel both turned and swords clashed into each other. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“I know that you’re probably disappointed that you couldn’t go fight that thing with Angel and Spike,” Fred said as she and Gunn walked into the hotel’s courtyard. 

“Right,” Gunn replied coolly. “Because why would I want to walk with a cute young woman on a beautiful night when I could be out hacking and slaying an ugly, boil-covered demon monster and getting killed.” 

Thinking he was serious, Fred said, “I can’t apologize enough.” 

“Hey, I just follow orders, no matter how tough the job,” Gunn said as he walked ahead of her to open the door for her. 

“It’s just that I’m still so jumpy, and I hate being jumpy, but I guess that’s why you’re here. Because you don’t . . .” 

Gunn’s “Whoa,” stopped her. She turned to see a guy in a breathing mask standing the doorway to the lobby which was filled with smoke. 

“Who the hell are you?” Gunn demanded. 

The guy raised his mask and replied, “Sure-Kill Exterminators. You can’t come in. We’re fumigating.” 

Gunn raised a brow at that. “In the middle of the night? I don’t think so.” He never took his eyes off the intruder as he addressed Fred, “I need you to get some of them books out of Wes’ office, okay?” When Fred gave him a worried look, he assured her, “You’ll be okay. I just need to talk to this nice man.” 

Fred walked past the two men glaring at each other. When she was out of the line of fire, Gunn turned angry eyes on the ‘exterminator’. “All right, you got thirty seconds to show me your work order before I start some exterminating my damn self.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_**

Wesley opened the door just in time for Angel and Spike to purposefully walk into the apartment. Well, Angel had a determined step. Spike just followed and shut the door behind him. 

“How is she?” Angel asked first. 

“Ah. We’re finding out right now. Did you get the . . .” Wesley started to say when Spike handed him the key. “Great.” 

Spike followed Angel into Cordelia’s bedroom where she lay on the bed with Lorne sitting beside her. 

Lorne turned as they walked in. “Ah. His royal badness, just in time. Would you talk to this young lady? She’s resisting the process.” 

Angel and Spike exchanged a look. “Process?” 

“Oh, my idea,” Wesley said as he walked in behind them. “The Host reads people’s auras to set them on their path. In some shape or form that connects him to the Powers That Be. I’m thinking . . .” 

“Yeah, we get it. He might be able to reverse the hex or whatever’s going on with her,” Spike finished. 

Angel looked at Cordelia, Lorne and then back at Wesley. “He might be able to use Cordelia in order to trace the call back to the Powers.” 

Lorne held his hands up in surrender. “Way outside my expertise, I should caution. But hey, who knew William Shatner could sing?” When they just looked at him, Lorne gave a small laugh. “Okay, bad example.” 

He got up and Angel took his place on the bed. Angel took Cordelia’s hand in his and she gave him a sad look. Spike stood on the other side of the bed and watched over her. 

“Was it there?” She asked in a hoarse voice. “Because I’m going to be really ticked off if I’m all,” she pointed to her face, “Phantom of the Opera and there wasn’t a key.” 

“It was right where you said,” Angel assured her. 

“Oh, good,” Cordelia sighed in relief. 

Angel looked at her solemnly. “Why don’t you want Lorne to try and trace the visions?” 

“It’s not like I’m morally against letting a demon into my subconscious for a quick lookie-loo. Hey, might be fun,” she said. 

“It’s not half bad sometimes, princess,” Spike cut in with a smirk. 

Cordelia gave him a small smile. “But with the Powers That Be doing this whole Book of Job thing, the last thing I want is more noise in my head.” 

“Maybe he can make the noise stop,” Angel suggested. 

“Yeah,” Cordelia sighed. 

“Isn’t that what you want?” 

“Yes! Well, no. Sure I hate looking and feeling like this, but . . . if I lose the visions, I wouldn’t be able to help you anymore. You wouldn’t need me.” 

Angel shook his head obstinately. “That’s not why I need you. _You’re_ important. The visions are just after market extras like a Hurst shift or Krager wheels.” 

Spike chuckled. “Did you just compare her to a car?” 

“It was a very nice car!” Angel insisted. 

“Ponce,” Spike grumbled. 

“I guess that’s better than a dog,” Cordelia said to herself which caused both vampires to look at her with a raised brow. 

“Cordy, let us try to help. Okay?” Angel pleaded. 

“Okay,” she sighed. 

Angel got up and let Lorne take his place again while he went over to lean against the wall beside Spike. They watched as Lorne prepared himself to do whatever it was he had to do to Cordelia. 

“All right, princess, like I told you earlier: you shouldn’t even feel a thing,” Lorne said. “Are you ready?” 

Cordelia laid back into her pillow and closed her eyes with a sigh. Lorne put his fingertips on her temples and closed his eyes, too. 

“Should we be ‘ohm’ing?” Spike asked. 

“Very funny,” Lorne replied dryly. Then, he addressed Cordelia, “Now, I want you to relax. Picture yourself outdoors, in a field, or on a mountain.” 

She smiled. “I like the mountains.” 

“Beautiful. Say you’re on a mountaintop, and it’s warm. The sky is blue, full of big, fluffy clouds. You’re Julie Andrews in **_The Sound of Music_**. And you’re relaxed and you’re spinning and the camera is swirling and – ouch!” He quickly recoiled from Cordelia. “Careful, honey, you’ve got some power of your own!” 

“Sorry, all the spinning and swirling was freaking me out,” Cordelia apologized. 

“My fault, my fault,” Lorne said and then glanced over at Angel. “I just love that movie so much.” He turned back to the task at hand. “Okay, ready to try again?” When Cordelia adjusted her position, Lorne reached out for her again. “Okay. Now let’s go looking for the Powers That Be. See if we can reach out and touch someone.” 

Lorne started to massage Cordelia’s temples when she suddenly jerked as another vision slammed into her. Angel and Spike took a step forward. They were close to intervening when Lorne was thrown backwards through the air, crashing into the wall and smashing a floor lamp. 

Cordelia continued to convulse in the throes of a visions concerning someone burning in a box of fire and a bronze demon. When she screamed in pain, Angel rushed over to her. 

“Cordy? Cordy!” 

Wesley looked down at Cordelia’s arms where severe burns had materialized in the aftermath of the vision. Spike and Gunn carried Lorne out of the room and laid him out on the couch. Fred retrieved first-aid supplies from the bathroom. Wesley went to check on Lorne while Angel concentrated on Cordelia. 

When the vision was over, she asked, “Is Lorne going to be okay?” 

“He’s fine. He’s unconscious, but he’s fine. You’re the one I’m worried about,” Angel said. 

“Am I a bad person? Am I just a horrible person?” Cordelia asked tearfully. “Because I know I can be snippy sometimes.” 

“This isn’t happening because you’re bad,” Angel tried to assure her. “If anything it’s because you’re strong. Stronger than you realize.” 

“I’m not,” Cordelia shook her head. “I know what I said earlier. But, I don’t want the visions anymore. I tried to be brave. I did. But I’m scared now. I’m scared all the time.” She sniffled, trying hard not to cry. “I mean look at me!” She held out her arms, then took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. “What could be _so_ important that the Powers would do this? I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t either,” Angel said as he reached for her hand. 

The bedroom door open and Wesley stuck his head in. Getting Angel’s attention, he motioned for the vampire to go out in the hall. Angel hesitated, looking back at Cordelia, but Wesley was insistent. Angel looked between Wesley and Cordelia then stood up and followed Wesley, closing the door behind him. 

“This better be important,” Angel stated. 

In response, Wesley cocked his head towards the living room. Angel walked in the room as if on a mission. Lorne lay on the couch with Fred crouching beside it and Gunn sat on the arm of it. Spike was slouched in an adjacent chair. 

Angel glanced at each of them. “What? Did you make contact?” 

“The visions aren’t from the Powers!” Fred said excitedly. 

“Oh, sure, sweetheart. Steal my thunder,” Lorne commented. “Next time _you_ can be the one thrown across the room.” 

“Who’s sending the visions?” 

“I don’t know,” Lorne said simply. That earned him an agitated look from Angel. He winced as he tried to sit up. “But, it’s local, earthbound, and _pretty_ authentic. I can see how a layperson might mistake it for the real deal.” 

That got Gunn’s attention. “Are you saying someone hacked into Cordy’s head?” 

Lorne nodded. “Transmitting false data through the celestial pipeline. I know it’s probably a mile long list, but I’d start looking at enemies. Who wants to get to you, who has the sizeable resources and who’d be willing to mess up a pretty face like Cordelia’s?” 

Angel didn’t need to think about it. He knew damn well who had the guts to pull a stunt like this and she had gotten bolder than her predecessor. Without a word, he grabbed the coin and key and headed for the door. Spike immediately got up and followed him. 

“Angel!” Spike called out as he followed his Sire to the car. There was no answer. Spike rushed to catch up. “You can’t go into Wolfram  & Hart. There are vampire detectors, armed guards . . . Lilah Morgan.” 

“I know that!” Angel said over his shoulder. 

“Going in there would be like suicide,” Spike reminded him. 

Angel turned around just as he reached the car. “What do you want me to do? Cordy’s being tortured, by visions which Lilah hired someone to put into her head.” 

“You can’t kill her. You have no proof that she’s doing anything,” Spike said. 

“Proof? I don’t have proof? Since when did we need proof? I don’t need it. The fact that she has Wolfram & Hart stamped on her letterhead is all the proof I need. That fucking law firm has been dogging me for years! I let it rest for months now. But, she keeps insisting on messing with my life and the lives of my friends. If she wants to keep up the game, then who am I to ignore her? I’ll rake her over the coals just like she’s done with me. You saw her new playmate at the hotel. Gavin Park thinks he’s the next Lindsey McDonald. If he wants to be like Lindsey, then I’ll use him like Lindsey.” With that, Angel pivoted and opened the car door. 

“Angel,” Spike said. The dark vampire turned around again. There was a meaningful look in Spike’s eyes. The meaningful look that said everything they wouldn’t say out loud: _Love. Be careful._ Angel nodded, got in the car and left. 

Spike was just about to go inside when the apartment door swung open and Wesley walked out. “Oi, mate.” 

“Ah, Spike. I take it Angel left to go do something dastardly?” Wesley asked. 

“Dastardly?” Spike raised a brow. “I know we’re English Percy, but you can quit using the upper-crust British tone with me.” 

“Yes, quite,” Wesley stepped around Spike and headed for his motorcycle. He got a few feet away before turning around. “I know you aren't much for being idle. The girls are okay for a bit. Gunn’s a good fighter. Do you want to come back to the hotel and help with research or . . .?” 

Spike thought about it for a moment, weighing his options. “Sure, why not?” He shrugged and followed Wesley. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley was sitting at his desk looking at the markings on the coin through a magnifying glass. Spike sat in a chair in front of the desk with his feet propped up on the top with an open book on his lap. That’s how Angel found them when he walked in. 

“How is Cordelia?” Wesley asked without looking up. 

“Fred and Gunn are looking after her,” Angel replied as he fell into the chair beside Spike. “You figured it out yet?” 

“I think so. Spike and I have been researching this,” Wesley started to say. 

“You volunteered to research?” Angel sounded surprised. 

“Yeah, well . . .” Spike trailed off. 

“Something you probably won’t like to hear is that both artifacts are considered objects of good,” Wesley finished. 

“Oh. So the Chinese guy and the boil guy . . .” Angel started to say. 

“They were the good guys,” Spike said. 

“Damn!” Angel cursed. “It’s _so_ hard to tell these days. You know, they should wear lapel pins or something.” 

“Well, in the meantime, the inscription on the key and the coin match. They actually work together to transport you in and out of the other dimension.” 

“I don’t suppose we know what this other dimension is like. I mean, besides fortress-y and demon-y.” 

“Well, based on the burn scars Cordy received from that last vision, I’d imagine fire is not out of the question,” Wesley said thoughtfully. 

“Fire,” Angel nodded. 

“And if the young man is imprisoned, I’d imagine there may be guards,” Wesley added. 

“Guards,” Angel got up and headed for the weapons cabinet with Spike and Wesley following. 

“I don’t need to explain to you that if Wolfram  & Hart are behind this mission, it can’t be good,” Wesley said. 

Angel looked back at him and then opened the cabinet. He and Spike looked through the contents as Wesley tried to stress his point. 

“Just because Lilah tells you that this man is wrongly imprisoned doesn’t make it so.” 

“You’re right,” Angel agreed as he held up a knife to check the sharpness. Beside him, Spike was inspecting his own weaponry. 

“Nor do I have to explain to you that helping them violates everything you stand for,” Wesley said. 

“Right again,” Angel said as he strapped on the weapons. 

“Good,” Wesley said. “Then I don’t need to . . .” 

“I’m going with you!” Spike insisted, voicing Wesley’s thought. 

“Right,” Angel said automatically. Then it sank in. “No.” He grabbed the weapons from Spike and hung them back up in the cabinet. “I need you to stay here in case anything goes wrong.” 

“Soddin’ hell,” Spike cursed. “I thought _we_ agreed when I came back to L.A. with you that you’d stop ordering me around. I’m not a fledgling anymore, Angel. I’m not a babysitter. I’m a vampire, ergo I like to fight.” 

“Spike, I need you here. There is no reason for both of us to go to a hell dimension to retrieve a person who is probably as evil as the firm who’s forcing me to do this. This isn’t about whether I have you with me or not. In fact, I sleep better knowing that Lilah has no designs to use you against me. I’d like to keep it that way,” Angel said. 

“So what, I’m just supposed to stay behind and wait for you like a good puppy?” Spike asked indignantly. 

“You’re not an animal, Spike. No matter what your name implies. I’ll feel better knowing that while I’m dealing with this, you’ll be here to keep the fight going, if not for the good of humanity, than at least to fight against Wolfram  & Hart.” 

“Angel . . .” Spike sounded agitated. 

“ _Please_ , just look after Cordy for me. She’s a direct link to the Powers That Be and I need someone I trust that will make sure Lilah doesn’t get to her, well anymore than she already has,” Angel said. 

Spike gave him a beleaguered look. “Fine, but I don’t like it. I’m not a babysitter damn it.” 

“I know,” Angel said. He held up the coin and addressed Wesley, “Show me how it works.” 

Wesley took the coin. “I believe it’s fairly simple. Ready?” Angel nodded. Wesley inserted the key into the hole in the center of the coin. “This should take you there and bring you back.” 

Wesley turned the key until small metal bars sprung out from the ends to lock against the coin. Giving it a good twist, he tossed it to the floor where it spun like a top, creating a swirling vortex of smoke and light in the middle of the lobby. 

“Are you sure either one us can’t go with you?” Wesley asked. 

Angel took a deep breath as he looked at the vortex and then back at Wesley and Spike. “Take care of Cordy.” 

Angel took a step closer to the spinning key. The ring of light and smoke expanded to engulf him. Then, he and the key disappeared in a flash. However, the sword, dagger and mace he had armed himself with clattered to the floor. Wesley and Spike stared at the empty space. 

“Well, that looked like fun,” Spike commented as he picked up the weapons, taking them to the cabinet. 

Once the weapons cabinet was locked, Spike and Wesley left the hotel and went back to Cordelia’s apartment to do as Angel requested and to tell the gang about what happened. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_**

Spike sat next to Cordelia’s bed and watched her sleep. After a few minutes, Fred came in and he went to the living room where Wesley was currently wearing a hole in the rug pacing as he read a book and Gunn sat on the overstuffed couch. 

“So, tell me again what happened?” Gunn asked. 

“Angel took the key and went to a hell dimension to pick up someone or something who’s evil . . .” Wesley said. 

“And he did that because . . .?” Gunn asked even more confused than when he heard it the first time. 

“Lilah has Cordy hostage of sorts, and she’s using that to force Angel to release him or it,” Wesley replied. 

“And you just let him go alone?” 

“Hey, when the ponce gets it in his head to do something reckless, you can’t bloody well stop him,” Spike said defensively. 

They moved to hover in the doorway of Cordelia’s bedroom. Fred was sitting on the edge of the bed, seeing to Cordelia’s comfort as the seer moaned in her sleep. Wesley looked between Gunn and Spike and then back at their friend’s vision-ravaged body. 

“With Angel out of the way momentarily, we better be on our guard. It would be just like Lilah to try ambush us without him,” he said gravely. 

“Or Angel’s being ambushed alone right now and we’re just standing here doing nothing,” Gunn mused. 

“Right,” Wesley agreed. 

**************************

**_Hell Dimension_**

Skip knocked Angel to the ground. Angel shifted to his demon, jumped back up and resumed the fight. He kicked Skip backwards towards the burning cage. The inflamed man inside reached out and grabbed a hold of Skip’s shoulders, trying to pull the demon into the cage with him. Flames licked at Skip’s back while he struggled to get free. 

Angel stood there watching the scene. He had a half a thought to just leave Skip to his own demise, but his soul got the better of him. He shifted back to his human visage and ran forwards to help Skip. He pulled the hands off Skip’s shoulders, hissing in pain and swung Skip away from the cage. 

“Skip, are you okay?” Angel asked concerned. When the demon nodded, he said, “Good, sorry about this.” He hauled back and knocked Skip out with one good punch to the temple. Without Skip’s will to continue the punishment, the flames and cage disappear, revealing the naked, soot-smeared man at its center. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, outside Cordelia’s Apartment_**

“Maybe they don’t care,” Billy taunted from the backseat where he was tied up. 

Angel honked the horn for the third time before Spike, Wesley and Gunn came out. 

“It’s about damn time. What were you doing in there?” Angel asked, agitated. 

Spike leaned on the windshield. “Was busy researching, ponce. So, that’s the demon spawn, huh?” 

“Get in, we’re going to get this over with,” Angel said. “Gunn, can you stay here and look after the girls?” 

“Sure, not a problem,” Gunn said, jogging back to the apartment. 

Spike got in the front passenger seat, Wesley got in the back with Billy and Angel drove off. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles_**

Two limousines were parked in a spillway. Lilah Morgan paced between them, checking her watch occasionally. Soon, the headlights of a car got closer and she smiled as she recognized Angel’s convertible. Angel and Spike were in front, Wesley was in the back with the man Angel reluctantly rescued. 

“You know what to do if anything goes wrong?” Angel asked with his eyes trained on Lilah. 

Wesley pulled out a revolver, cocked it and aimed at the man beside him. 

“Right,” Angel got out of the car and walked towards Lilah. She motioned towards the limousines and half dozen burly bodyguards stepped out. Lilah and Angel faced each other down as if they were at the OK Corral. 

“To be honest, nobody at the firm thought that you could do it . . . except me,” Lilah said. “You’re a remarkable man, Angel.” 

“Yeah, and you’re an evil bitch,” he replied. “Let’s finish this. Take care of Cordelia and you get your guy.” 

Lilah nodded and walked to the back of one of the limousines. The window slid down revealing the guy who had tortured Cordelia with dreams. Lilah talked to him for a moment and the window slid back up. 

She turned back to Angel. “This should only take a moment.” 

Angel turned towards his car. Wesley handed Spike his cell phone so he could concentrate on keeping his aim on Billy. Spike scanned through the address book and hit SEND CALL on Cordelia’s number. 

“Hello?” Fred answered. 

“Hey, luv, tell me when Cordelia’s body clears up,” Spike said. 

After a few minutes, Fred said, “It worked. She’s okay.” 

“Thanks, luv,” Spike said and hung up. 

Spike got out of the car and motioned that everything was okay. Wesley and Billy got out of the car. Spike moved around to the driver’s side and got in. Angel glared as Billy walked past him to the open door of one of the limousines. He propped his arms up on the open door to let one of the guards cut the rope while smirking at Angel, then got in the car. 

“It’s just business,” Lilah said by way of explanation. 

“Right, just business,” Angel said blandly. 

When Lilah started to walk towards her limousine, Angel picked up a piece of rebar lying in a pile of other scrap and sent it hurtling through the air. It whistled past Lilah’s ear and smashed through the back window of the limo, imbedding in the guy’s head. 

Lilah looked back at Angel then stepped closer to get a look at the damage he’d done. The guy she’d used to torment Cordelia was slumped over in the backseat, dead. She jumped when Angel suddenly appeared right behind her. 

“Don’t you come at me through Cordelia ever again,” Angel said in a low menacing voice. “You play that card a second time and I’ll kill you.” 

She watched as Spike drove the convertible over and Angel got into the passenger seat as Wesley had returned to his seat in the back. Spike ignored her as he drove away. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Two Days Later_**

Cordelia poured Angel a cup of coffee, then Spike who sat beside him and they both had a plate and silverware in front of them. 

“Cordy, I’m glad you’re feeling better and all but . . .” Angel started to say. 

“. . . You’re not really a foody. I know,” she finished. “But, I saw this great, big industrial kitchen that we have and never use. I thought that maybe,” Angel and Cordelia both jumped when the waffles popped up from a toaster. “One of these days we should get someone in here to cook.” 

“Hey, I can cook!” Spike said indignantly. 

“You mean more than ‘blood on toast’?” Cordelia’s brow lifted. 

“I was alive once,” Spike sneered. 

“Yes, but when you were alive, families had housekeepers to do the cooking,” Cordelia said as she put the waffles on the plates and poured syrup over them. 

“My mother and I . . . okay we may have had a part time one,” Spike said. 

Angel snickered. “We didn’t have any.” 

Spike looked disgusted at his Sire. “You had one!” 

“We had one servant. It wasn’t like she knew how to cook . . . or clean . . . or . . .” 

“Well, if she hadn’t spent most of her time on her back in your bed then she probably would have learned,” Spike shot back and then stuffed a big bite of waffle in his mouth. 

“You’re a pig, Spike,” Cordelia said. “Seriously though, what if that guy you freed is someone that’s truly terrible? Wolfram  & Hart won this time and it’s all _my_ fault.” 

“It’s not about winning, Cordelia. It’s about what’s at stake. And --” Angel was saying. 

“These are bloody fantastic waffles!” Spike broke in. 

“Spike! I’m trying to make an uplifting speech here,” Angel said. 

“Sowwy, go awn,” Spike said around a mouthful of waffle. 

“Where was I?” 

“It’s not about winning . . .” Cordelia offered. 

“Right, it’s about what’s at stake,” Angel finished. “And in this particular scenario you were way more important than winning. I can’t worry about that guy I set free. I did what I had to do.” 

“Don’t you mean ‘we’?” Spike asked. 

“I’ll just deal with the consequences when they happen,” Angel said. 

“Again with the singular pronouns. I’m here you know,” Spike said, prodding Angel in the arm with his fork. 

“Did you hear something?” Angel asked Cordelia, then smirked and took off running with Spike chasing him with his plate of half eaten waffle and the fork. 

**************************

**_Suunydale Airport_**

“There he goes,” Willow observed as she and her friends watched Giles’ plane leave the tarmac. 

“It’s a good thing. My face was getting sore from all that faux smiling,” Xander said. 

“It was right, though, wasn’t it? Giving him the no-tears sendoff?” Willow inquired as she turned to see her friends huddled together. “I mean we don’t want him going off all worried about us.” 

“He’d still be worried, just . . . eight hours ahead,” Anya surmised. 

“What’s he going to do over there by himself?” Willow wondered as they walked back to the car. “I mean he never talks about people from England. What if he’s lonely?” 

“He won’t be lonely. He used to live there before, remember?” Tara said. 

“I’m sure we’ll talk to him, right? It’s not like he’s --” Dawn started to say. 

“We’ll call him tomorrow, how about that?” Tara suggested as she wrapped an arm around Dawn’s shoulders. “See how his flight was, yeah?” Tara and Dawn walked on ahead as the other three paused. 

“Can you believe the timing? I mean, he’s leaving right when we’re ready to . . .” Xander whispered to Willow. She looked nervously towards Dawn. “. . . Do the thing tonight.” 

“I know, I had hoped we’d figure it out before he, uh . . . before he left,” Willow said. 

“Maybe we should have told him. I mean, what if it works?” Anya asked. 

“He’ll come back,” Willow stated. 

Xander fidgeted. “It’ll be dark soon.” 

“Yeah, we should get Dawn home,” Willow said, walking again. “I want to go over everything one more time. Nothing can go wrong tonight.” 

A few hours after sundown, Willow, Xander and Anya stood in a semicircle beside Buffy’s grave. Tara had stayed at the Summers’ home with Dawn. Willow stood directly at the foot of the grave with Xander and Anya on either side with lit candles. 

“Does everyone have their candles?” Willow asked. When the other gave the affirmative, she said, “Okay start the circle now.” 

They knelt beside the grave, holding their candles, except Willow held the Urn of Osiris. She produced a small jar containing the blood of the fawn she had sacrificed that morning, and poured it into the urn. 

Anya and Xander looked on nervously as Willow dipped her finger into the urn and marked her forehead and both cheeks with the blood. 

“Before time, and after. Before knowing, and nothing,” Willow incanted as she poured the contents of the urn onto the ground. “Accept our offering. Know our prayer.” Suddenly, she jerked backward, panting, and her arms were thrown out at her sides. Deep ugly gashes appeared on her arms. 

“Willow!” Xander yelled over the mystic whirlwind. 

“Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over,” Willow yelled. She winced and moaned in pain as blood seeped from the cuts on her arms and round shapes moved under her skin. They moved up her arms and over her chest towards her neck. 

“She needs help!” Xander yelled anxiously. 

“No, if we stop now then its over,” Anya said. 

They watched in horror as Willow continued to breathe heavily. Suddenly, they heard a loud rumbling and looked around for the source. 

Willow was oblivious to the rumbling as she shouted, “Osiris, let her cross over! Ahh . . .” 

She choked as the round things under her skin moved up her neck. She leaned forward on her hands and knees, gagging. A snake’s head appeared as it slithered out of her open mouth to the ground. Xander and Anya looked horrified. 

“Osiris, release her!” Willow yelled. 

The sound of motorcycle engines revving got closer. Then, the small group was surrounding by motorcycles going around in circles. Xander and Anya looked up to see demons on the back of them. Willow remained enthralled in the spell to bring her friend back. One of the demons ran over the Urn of Osiris, shattering it. 

“No!” Willow screamed as the action broke the spell and she fell to the ground. 

“Willow!” Xander yelled. He waited until there was an opening and dashed forward, grabbed Willow and pulled her out of the way just as one of the demons rode his motorcycle over the spot where she was a second before. 

“Let’s go!” Xander yelled at Anya before they ran off. 

Under the earth, an orange mist swirled up the desiccated body to the head where the skull had much of the skin and hair rotting away and decaying. The orange mist swirled around as the eyeballs reappeared. The skin and hair repair themselves and results in Buffy, wide-eyed and gasping. She found herself inside her coffin. She looked around wildly, panting in extreme fear. 

Buffy pounded frantically on the sides of her coffin and tried to scream but no sound came out. Terrified now, she continued pounding, banging on the inner lid just inches from her face. She started to rip away at the cloth that lined the inside of the lid. She yanked harder until the cloth gave away and she shredded the material until she hit the wooden lid. She banged her hand against the lid, punched it and her fist went through the wood. Dirt began to rain down on her as she pulled at the wood, widening the hole. 

After a while of having to fight her way through the wooden lid, a hand burst out of the ground, then another hand and finally Buffy’s head and shoulders. She gasped for air, as she pulled herself up onto the grass. She lay there panting, looking around wildly at the dark forest. She slowly got to her feet, turned around and stared at the headstone with her name on it. She frowned in confusion then her eyes widened in shock when reality finally sank in. 

Buffy Anne Summers was alive and staring at her own gravestone.


	5. Chapter 36-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 36-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 3)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“I have a delivery for Angel Investigations! Anyone home?” someone called out from the entrance. 

Spike walked into the lobby from the kitchen where he was fixing a glass of blood when he heard someone in the hotel. He was met by a man in a uniform with a freighting company insignia on his shirt. Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia left to go to Caritas an hour ago and hadn’t returned yet. Fred was hiding upstairs in her room, which left old Spike to deal with the delivery boy. 

“What can I do for you mate?” Spike asked as he met the man half way. 

The delivery driver held out an electronic clipboard and a magic pencil. “Just sign here please and tell me where you want me to drop off your purchases.” 

“Purchases?” Spike inquired as he signed his name: William Pratt. “Angel only bought a shower.” 

The delivery driver shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. I was given two invoices: a Jacuzzi shower and a tub.” He pointed at the entrance doors. “Do those open all the way so I can just back the truck up?” 

“Yeah.” 

A half hour later, Spike found himself standing in the lobby with parts for the Jacuzzi shower and a tub. He was there when Angel ordered the shower, so how did he not remember a Jacuzzi tub which apparently came with a waterfall spout? 

“Spike? I thought I heard someone down there?” Fred’s voice echoed from the balcony. 

Spike continued to stare at the boxes with a puzzled expression. She peeked over the balcony and squealed. The screeching sound echoed as she raced down the steps to the lobby. 

“Sorry. Oh, wow. Where did these come from? What’s in them?” Fred asked excitedly as she walked around the boxes, examining them. 

“They’re the ponce’s new shower and a bathtub,” Spike answered, mystified. 

“Oh. Do you need help putting them together?” Fred asked in wonder. 

“Sure, once I figure out how to get them up two flights of stairs without breaking my back,” he replied dryly. 

“Well, where are Angel and the others?” 

“Caritas.” 

********************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

“That night still haunts me,” Angel shuddered visibly at the memory. “I’m ashamed of how I treated you.” He looked down, glancing at the table. “The way I used you.” He looked back up. “I took what I needed.” He looked back down as if he couldn’t look the person he was speaking to in the eye anymore. “Then, I cast you aside and that . . . that was wrong of me. It was very wrong.” Angel looked back up at Merl who sat in a chair opposite him. 

“He’s reading!” Merl cried indignantly. 

The lizard demon glanced around at the other patrons in the bar as if he expected them to give an explanation as to why this was happening. Wesley stood behind Angel while Gunn, Lorne and Cordelia leaned against the bar behind Merl. 

“I made some notes,” Angel said defensively. 

“I’m not feeling the sincerity here!” Merl said angrily. 

Angel gave his friends an ‘I told you so’ look and got to his feet. “I told you this was a waste of time. I’m going back to the hotel and help with the shower.” 

“Real friends don’t need notes!” Merl said to Angel’s back. 

The vampire turned around, commenting sarcastically, “We’re not _friends_ Merl! We barely even know each other.” 

“Not like you made the effort either, is it?!” Merl asked in a hurt tone. He got up and headed for the exit when Cordelia stepped in front of him. 

“No, you know what? Let him go if he wants to, Cordy,” Angel said casually. 

“Merl, you said you’d listen to what Angel had to say,” Cordelia reminded him. 

Meanwhile, Wesley had pulled Angel aside and spoke quietly, “You promised you’d make an attempt.” 

On Cordelia’s side of things, Merl was on a rant, “You get a load of that insincere tripe he was reading?” 

Back on Wesley’s side, Angel insisted angrily, “I apologized. What does he _want_ from me?!” 

On Cordelia’s side, she pointed out, “I hardly think it’s fair to blame it on the writing.” 

Hearing Angel’s question, Merl turned on him. “What do I want? Huh? I’ll tell you what I want. I want back the three months I spent in therapy after being hung upside-down in a sewer. That’s what _I_ want!” 

“Angel, read the cards,” Cordelia stressed. 

“No. He’s right. He’s right. He’s right. Every time I went to Merl for information he came through. So, I’ll tell you what Merl.” He moved around the tables to stand in front of the demon and held his arms open. “Take a shot.” 

That got Cordelia, Merl and Wesley bickering amongst themselves while Lorne shook his head and Gunn tried not to laugh. 

“Oh, knock it off, guys,” Cordelia said irritated. 

“Come on, Merl, take your best shot,” Angel goaded. 

“Angel, please . . .” Wesley tried to interject. 

“Let’s go, Merl,” Angel continued to egg the small demon on. 

“You see this? He’s goading. He’s goading me!” Merl whined. 

“It’s a free shot, Merl. Just take it,” Angel provoked as he dodged and weaved closer. 

“No. No. Shameless with the goading, you see?!” Merl said, addressing Cordelia and Wesley. 

“Come on, Merl-la-la. Merl-la-la-la,” Angel apparently resorted to schoolyard bullying. 

“Okay!” Merl yelled as he picked up a bottle from the bar and hauled back to hit Angel. Instead, the bottle recoiled from an invisible barrier, throwing him back into Lorne’s arms as the empath demon stood by waiting by catch him. 

Merl shook his head to clear it after the impact from the sanctuary spell. “Whoa! Man, you did that on purpose! You knew that was going to happen. You tricked me! Huh?” 

Angel sat back down in a chair and tried to keep the smug look off his face. 

Lorne glared pointedly at the vampire. “Now, I’m sure Angel just forgot for the moment that _any_ demon violence is impossible in Caritas.” 

“Yeah,” Angel agreed all-too-quickly. “I-I-I forgot.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever okay?” Merl said in an edgy tone as he waved the apology away. “I’m done listening to this bloodsucker! And the same goes for the rest of you, all right? I never want to see any of you ever again!” He stormed towards the door, intent on making a dramatic exit, then slowed down, stopped and turned around. “Uh, so, who’s going to give me a ride home?” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Spike was still pondering the boxes sitting in the lobby of the Hyperion from his perch on the stairs when the others came back from Caritas. Cordelia eyed the boxes suspiciously as she skirted around them on her way to the reception desk. Gunn and Wesley examined them for anything that shouldn’t be there before opening them up while Angel looked over the invoices. 

“Oh good,” he sighed in relief. “They made it. I thought it would take forever to get here.” 

“Why didn’t you get someone to install this?” Gunn asked incredulously. 

“We are,” Angel said casually. 

“We are?” three voices echoed. 

“It’ll be a bonding experience, team effort kind of a deal,” Angel said enthusiastically as he helped to open a box. 

Cordelia was still stuck on being volunteered to help. “We are?” 

“Cordy! Focus!” Angel said impatiently. 

Spike looked on the scene with a shocked expression. “Would think after spending all that money on everything, you’d go the extra mile and get someone to install them professionally.” 

“Spike, come help carry these up to our room,” Angel called out while still engrossed in the contents of a box. 

“I was afraid of that,” Spike groaned as he got to his feet and went over to help. 

**************************

**_The Bathroom of Angel’s Suite, an Hour Later_**

“Were you in any way crazy when you got the idea to do it yourself?” Cordelia asked as she helped sort through the pieces. “’Cause this is going to ruin my manicure.” 

“Or perhaps evil?” Wesley muttered as he held up a piece to examine it. 

After drawing straws to see who would get what job, the gang was sitting on the floor of the bathroom with pieces to the new shower stall interspersed among them. Angel was occupied with reading the instructions while Spike was busy trying to fit pieces together that obviously did not go together. 

“Well, you know Angel. It’s not worth it if the whole team isn’t pitching in,” Spike commented as he glared at the opposing pieces. 

“What are all these things?” Gunn asked. 

“I’m more of a book person than a . . . mechanic . . . er plumber?” Wesley said bemused. 

“I don’t mind killing demons with you all, but I did not sign on for this,” Gunn said as he tossed another piece down. 

“Yes, I do think I would prefer fighting demons, or whatever the latest case is,” Wesley agreed all-too-readily. 

“It’s not like we’ll ever get to use it,” Cordelia said as she took the hammer and pry bar to the old tub, so they could replace it with the shower stall. To an outsider it would seem that she was being more aggressive than the job called for. 

“Listen peaches, I will pay for the installation. I just don’t fancy turning to dust with us doing it,” Spike suggested. 

“Shut up Spike, it will be a good team building exercise,” Angel grumbled behind the instruction sheet. “Go help Cordy before she breaks her nails.” 

Spike gave up on the pieces and went to help her. There were times when vampire strength came in handy. Though, he wasn’t expecting to tear out a tub using it. 

“It’s because of your state-of-the-art bathroom fixtures that got us into this,” Cordelia accused him when he appeared beside her. “What did you do for installation?” 

“I hired professionals and then got the soddin’ hell out of the way,” Spike retorted. 

Cordelia looked at him speculatively. “You’re smarter than you look.” 

“Gee, Cordy, thanks,” Spike said mockingly. “Your condescending remarks are starting to sound more complementary.” 

“We can do this! We are professional, and have loads of talent,” Angel argued. 

“I don’t think the Watcher’s Council had plumbing on the curriculum when they instructed us in overseeing a slayer,” Wesley said casually. 

“I didn’t realize demon hunting and killing came with a side of home repair,” Gunn added. 

“You spent all this money on these parts and won’t pay to get it installed professionally?” Fred inquired. 

“Team building, nothing beats it,” Angel said glibly. 

“But Spike said he would pay for a professional installer,” Cordelia replied. 

“Team building,” Angel muttered in irritation. 

“Team building on a white man’s luxury for our two ever-loving vamps,” Gunn pondered the idea out loud. 

“You’re free to use the whirlpool tub in Sunnydale, y’know?” Spike suggested. 

“Yeah, ’cause that is so close!” Gunn shot back. 

“I seem to remember a certain cheerleader who was willing to look past my faults and move in with me to be able to use it,” Spike leered pointedly at Cordelia who glared at him before smashing her mallet against the tub. 

“You could use my tub when we install it, Charles,” Fred said shyly. 

That got everyone’s attention. Angel and Spike looked up suddenly at the unexpected comment, their tasks momentarily forgotten. Fred shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny of her new friends and blushed. 

“Of course, I mean . . . when I’m not using it,” she added softly. 

“I don’t know about that,” Spike said, stepping into the comfortable role of overprotective brother. 

“Oh. I see. Gunn gets an invite to the use the tub,” Wesley muttered as he glanced at Gunn with a jealous expression. 

Angel and Spike turned to the former Watcher and each raised a brow. After a moment, they all turned to look at Fred again. 

Fred shifted again as she stared back like a deer in headlights. “I’ll just shut up now.” 

Angel cleared his throat. “Project: Install Shower. Could we get back to that sometime today?” He picked up a few plumbing pipes and asked, “Now, who was going to do the plumbing?” 

“Is this like for a segment on the Home and Garden Network?” Cordelia asked. 

“Still looking for that chance at inevitable, unattainable stardom?” Spike smirked. 

“I think I reluctantly became plumber,” Gunn said. 

“Well, you did draw the Popsicle stick labeled ‘plumbing’,” Wesley pointed out. 

Spike stood up and ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Don’t you think that the plumbing should be professional, at the very least? I don’t fancy the heat fluctuating. We could turn into a pile of dust.” 

“I thought that drawing straws thing was a silly game. I didn’t know he meant it.” She looked at Spike, then Angel speculatively, “Does that mean I have to build the heated towel cabinet?” She tossed the mallet around while talking with her hands. The action made everyone duck out of the way. 

“Hey, the shower cost me a fortune,” Angel said defensively. “Who has money for a plumber?” 

“Well, if you hadn’t gone and bought that bloody tub, you’d have the money for a plumber,” Spike shot back. 

“Now wait a minute there, y’all. We haven’t gotten to my bathtub yet, and until we do, there will be no talk about getting rid of it,” Fred spoke up when it looked like her new tub was in jeopardy. 

“At least you didn’t get ‘electrician,” Wesley said, addressing, holding up his stick to show her his allotted task. 

Fred smiled shyly. “I got the job of adding the non slip decals on the floor of the shower.” 

“Shut up, Fred,” Cordelia pouted when she heard that Fred got the easiest job of them all. 

Spike stood back and watched the melee with a detached interest. “I see a disaster in the making. Shouldn’t Fred be the electrician with all her knowledge on physics?” 

Angel tossed the instruction booklet down and got to his feet. He scratched his head and mulled over Spike’s suggestion. He looked at Wesley, then Fred, weighing his options. After a moment, he exchanged Wesley ‘electrician’ Popsicle stick for Fred’s ‘decals’ stick. 

“Hey, how come he gets the easy job?” It was more of a demand from Cordelia than a question. When Angel sighed and exchanged the ‘decals’ stick for Cordelia’s ‘build towel cabinet’ stick, she gave him a big toothpaste commercial smile. “Thank you.” 

“Now do you think we can get back to installing the shower?” Angel asked with a tone of agitation. 

“Can’t wait until it’s time to install the tub that I didn’t know about,” Spike grumbled. Angel glowered at Spike as Wesley picked up the hammer to start on the towel cabinet. 

“I noticed that you and Angel have been left out of being handymen,” Wesley commented nonchalantly. 

“We are best suited at the heavy lifting and such,” Spike replied still in a heated glare with Angel that was getting hotter by the second. 

“When you can lift a three hundred-pound tub and base, then we’ll talk handyman, Wes,” Angel added. He looked at Spike a moment more before breaking eye contact to study the instructions again. 

“Ah, I bet you’re thinking of fixing that elevator now, ain’t ya?” Gunn chuckled. 

Angel’s eyes rolled back in his head at the thought having to lug something that heavy up two flights of stairs again. It wasn’t so much that they carried the items up as Angel dragged them up while Spike pushed and vice versa. 

He opened his eyes and grinned knowingly at Gunn. “ ** _God yes_**. Spike will be practicing chiropractic therapy on my back for weeks after this.” 

Spike nearly dropped a huge piece of the old tub he was holding on both of their feet when he heard Angel’s selfish plan. “Hey _ponce_ , what about my back?” 

“Too much info!” Cordelia spoke up as she quickly covered her ears for a few seconds before returning to her task. 

Wesley looked wistful as he said, “I foresee the desolate sound of an old hotel in the coming weeks. No surround sound sex.” He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll actually get some work done.” 

“Oh don’t be too sure of that Wes, vampire healing here,” Spike replied. 

“Virgin ears here people! Don’t really care to know about the intimate details of vampires,” Cordelia cut in. 

“Jealous kitten?” Spike teased. 

“Project: Shower Install, people. Less talking,” Angel stressed. 

Spike smirked and stepped over the rubble to growl softly in Angel’s ear, “Caveman go ‘ugh!’” When Angel turned and gave him a heated look, Spike chuckled and went back to his task. 

“I hope you’re going to buy us some good food at the end of this,” Cordelia said pointedly to Angel as she worked. 

Fred’s face lit up at the mention of food. “Tacos!” 

Everyone groaned at that. Gunn sidled up to Fred and hugged her. “If my girl wants tacos, then she’s getting tacos.” 

Angel and Spike turned watchful eyes on the pair but kept silent. Fred blushed under their scrutiny and slipped out of Gunn’s embrace. Wesley glowered in Gunn’s direction before going back to work on the towel cabinet. 

“As long as you can keep it down this time,” Angel grumbled, remembering the non-refundable sushi couscous disaster. 

“That only happened once and it wasn’t my fault they tried to poison me,” Cordelia said defensively. 

“Nineteen dollars for a regurgitated appetizer,” Angel said petulantly. 

“Angel, really, do you have to be crude?” Wesley asked. 

“You thought he was polite before?” Spike chuckled. 

Gunn scratched his head as he looked the pipes over thoughtfully. “Do you think the water pressure will be good enough for this type of shower?” 

“Now is a hell of a time to worry about that,” Cordelia said. 

“Well, I didn’t know I would be a pseudo-plumber before,” Gunn shot back. 

“The box said it was energy efficient,” Wesley offered helpfully. 

**************************

**_Meanwhile in Merl’s Nest_**

Merl turned on the overhead light in his home as he looked through his mail. He looked up in time to see the intruders that had been waiting for him. 

“What the . . .?” Merl started to say when they pointed a weapon at him. He dropped his mail, threw up his hands and backed away. “Hey, hey, hey! No, no, no. No! No!” he screamed as they attacked. Yellow-green liquid splattered the wall as a bladed weapon chopped at him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, the next Day_**

Spike and Angel were milling around the reception desk with Fred and Cordelia. They had worked until 2 a.m. on the shower before deciding to call it a night. Wesley and Gunn had gone home to their respective apartments. Fred had fallen asleep on Angel’s bed a couple of hours after she finished the electrical work. The two vampires climbed into bed on either side of her and fell into an exhausted sleep. Cordelia had stayed the night in the hotel, calling her own answering machine to tell Denis-the-ghost that she was all right. At 9 a.m. they were back at the shower finishing the job with Wesley’s help. Gunn had yet to appear. 

They were currently taking a break before the job was completely finished. All they had left to do was to hook the pipes together and voila: new shower. 

“Angel, do you know anything about plumbing?” Spike asked casually as he looked at the how-to guide. 

Angel snatched the booklet back and flipped the page. “I’ve been around for two hundred years. I think I know a little bit about it.” 

Spike grabbed the booklet back and resumed reading. “You’ve been dead for two hundred years. You’ve never needed it, git.” 

“I’ll have you know I remodeled the apartment I had in Sunnydale and when I first moved here. I know how to tap a waterline. Damn it, give me that!” Angel demanded, yanking the booklet out of Spike’s hands. 

“You know, maybe you ought to try that sincere thing again,” Spike suggested. 

Spike’s comment brought Merl to mind and distracted Angel enough so that Spike could steal the booklet back. When he got no reaction out of his Sire, the blonde looked at him. “What are you brooding over now?” 

Angel didn’t answer. He grabbed his coat, excused himself and headed for the door. 

“Where are you going, Angel?” Fred asked. 

“To try that sincere thing again,” the dark vampire replied and walked out the door. 

Spike and Fred exchanged a look and shrugged. “I was only trying to get the book back.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Gunn’s Apartment_**

_Gunn smiled at his sister, Alonna._

_“Hey, big brother,” she greeted._

_In a flash she was in vampire visage. In another flash she reverted back to human._

_“I was never going to let anything happen to you. I was supposed to protect you. You were my sister,” Gunn said apologetically._

_“I still am,” she said, then shifted to her demon and moved in to bite Gunn._

_“Goodbye,” he said tearfully and staked her, watching her turn to dust._

_“Alonna!”_

The scream in his dreams jerked him awake and he sat up. There was a beeping noise coming from his right. He looked over and noticed that his pager was going off. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Merl’s Lair_**

Yellow slime and blood coated the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Angel stood in the middle of the tossed room. He turned as Gunn knocked on the open door. Spike and Wesley were on opposite sides of the room going through Merl’s belongings. 

“You made it,” Angel commented blandly. 

“Yeah, I called the hotel. They said you were here,” Gunn replied, looking at the room. Seeing the yellow-green color on the wall, he gestured to it. “What’s that?” 

Angel glanced in the direction Gunn indicated before going back to sorting through items. “That’s Merl.” 

“Where’s the rest of him?” Gunn asked. 

“Look around, mate,” Spike replied. Angel pointed to the light bulb and various points of the room. 

“Nasty. What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” Angel said as he glanced around for something else to look through. “I stopped by this morning. Thought I’d give ‘sincere’ one more shot,” he looked pointedly at Spike for the foolish idea, “I even brought donuts and found this.” He looked at Gunn adding flippantly, “So far, we’ve ruled out suicide.” 

Wesley walked over carrying a sheaf of paper, overlooking Gunn. “I found some of his personal papers, an address book,” he looked up when something moved in his peripheral and saw Gunn. “You’re here. Good. Ah, you didn’t notice anything odd last night when you dropped Merl off, did you?” 

“Not really,” Gunn replied. 

“Well, we’ll box these up, catalog them when we get to the hotel,” Wesley said, handing Spike the papers to add to a box of other evidence. 

“Hey, guys, what are we doing?” Gunn asked. 

“What does it look like? We’re examining the crime scene,” Spike replied, shifting things around in the box so they could fit more in. 

“Yeah, I see that,” Gunn said with a tone of irritation. “But what’s our interest?” 

“Someone killed Merl,” Wesley pointed out. 

“No, right, I get _that_ ,” Gunn stressed as he watched his friends examine the room of a demon with disembodied interest. “Look, I didn’t have a beef with Merl, all right? I’m even sorry he got dead, but come on! Is this really the kind of thing we should be spending our time on? I mean he was what he was, right?” 

Angel and Spike looked up from going through Merl’s things. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Gunn said, exasperated. “It means what it means. Somebody killed a demon. Hello! We do that every day.” 

Spike peered at Gunn as if he were studying the vampire hunter. “’S nice to know what you think of demons, mate. I’ll remember that next time I’m saving your arse in a fight.” 

“ _Merl_ was harmless,” Wesley stated. 

Gunn threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay!” 

“Sure you’re not just bent because maybe we interrupted something you’d _rather_ be doing?” Angel asked with a raised brow. 

“No.” 

“Okay,” Angel mumbled as he sorted through Merl’s clothes. “Usually doesn’t take you two hours to answer a page is all.” 

Gunn’s brow furrowed in anger and he took a menacing step toward Angel. “Excuse me, but did someone put you back in charge? Because if they did, they forgot tell me about it.” 

Angel growled and took a threatening step toward Gunn, standing his ground. “I’ll remind you that it’s my name on the business: _Angel Investigations_. Not _Gunn_ Investigations or _Wyndham-Pryce_ Agency. _I_ allowed you to join the good fight with me, Gunn. If you don’t like how things are going here, then feel free to go back to your old crew. No one here is stopping you.” 

Angel and Gunn stared at each other, daring the other to make the next move. When it looked like the showdown was going to escalate with Gunn raising his fist to hit Angel and Angel moving effortlessly into a defensive stance, Spike and Wesley stepped between them. 

“Angel back off,” Spike whispered low enough for only his Sire to hear. 

“All right, you’re both behaving like children. We know there are demons that help us. They are useful as informants. We need to protect them as much as humans,” Wesley said and then turned to address the vampire hunter. “Gunn, if this isn’t something that you can get behind, we’ll understand. For now, why don’t you just go home?” 

Gunn stood there looking at Wesley and glaring at Angel. Wesley clapped him on the arm. “Go home.” 

“You know what? That’s probably a _real_ good idea,” Gunn said. He pivoted on his heel and walked out past Angel who was looking through Merl’s rolodex. 

“Little creep,” Angel muttered. 

“Angel!” Wesley exclaimed. 

“I meant Merl,” Angel clarified. “He’s right you know? I never did bother to get to know who he was. Now I guess I’ll have to.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel was sitting on the counter of the reception desk in the Hyperion’s lobby. Spike was leaning against it on the opposite side. Cordelia was working on the computer at her desk behind the counter. 

“What are we going to do about Fred? She can’t be stuck up there all the time with only Spike and I for company,” Angel said. 

“Some people just need a little time alone. I wouldn’t worry,” Cordelia assured him. 

“She’s had time alone. Five years,” Angel said as he glanced over at the entrance doors leading to the courtyard. “I think that’s the problem.” He dropped off the counter and walked over to look out at Fred, who was standing in the sunny courtyard. “She’s been back in this world for three months and she still hasn’t gone out into it.” 

“I don’t see where that’s a problem,” Spike spoke up. “I remember a certain Sire who kept me strapped down to the bed for the first three months.” 

Angel cuffed Spike on the back of the head for the remark. Cordelia ignored them as she got up and moved to a better position to see Fred through the glass doors. “Right, it’s not like the last time she went out into the world and got sucked into an inter-dimensional portal and ended up living like a hunted animal in a hostile demon alternate world or anything.” She looked thoughtful for a minute and went back to her desk. “Oh, wait. It kind of is, isn’t it?” 

Angel walked behind the desk and leaned against it. “Which is why I’m asking you to, you know, talk to her.” 

Cordelia shook her head. “I’m not so sure that’s a great idea.” 

“You don’t like her?” Spike asked. 

“Sure, I like her. What’s not to like?” Cordelia said as she went back to the counter and looked out at the courtyard where Fred was talking to herself. “She’s sweet and adorable and . . . seems to be laughing at something that shrub just said.” She turned by to Angel. “Look, it’s not that I don’t like her. It’s just . . . I don’t get her.” 

“I’m not asking you to _get_ her. I’m just asking you to . . . talk to her,” Angel said. He looked at Cordelia as a smile slowly spread across his face, trying to charm her. 

Cordelia laid the papers down on the counter. “Fine, we’ll chat.” 

“Thanks.” Angel gave her a big smile as he picked up the stack of papers Cordelia dropped on the desk. “What’s this?” 

“Enemies of Merl list,” she said, heading towards Wesley’s office. 

Spike and Angel took a minute to look it over. A second later, Angel followed Cordelia into Wesley’s office with Spike in tow. She was leaning on the desk where Wesley was writing something. 

“Hey. Why is _my name_ at the top of this list?” Angel demanded, waving the paper at them. 

“Ah . . . ‘A’,” Cordelia replied by way of explanation. 

“Merl and I were _not_ enemies,” Angel stressed. 

“Oh, okay, my mistake,” she said casually. 

“I’m the one that found the body, remember?” 

“Oh, and _that’s_ not suspicious,” Cordelia sneered. “The one time you pay Merl a social visit, he ends up dead?” 

“I recognize quite a few of these names, actually,” Wesley said, glancing through the list. 

“You should,” Cordelia snapped. “Half of them weren’t ‘enemies of Merl’ until we made him snitch on them.” 

“Oh, sure, I went _dark_ and I killed Merl,” Angel said flippantly. 

Wesley and Cordelia looked at him for a minute before Wesley suggested, “We’ll work backwards and end with the ‘A’s. How’s that?” He got up and walked out of the room. “We should start tracking these names.” He split the list up and handed a few sheets to Spike. 

Angel started to follow Wesley out of the room, but turned back to Cordelia. “You know ask yourself this: if I’d killed Merl would I’ve brought donuts?” 

“Angel, shut up while you’re still ahead,” Spike said as he flipped through a magazine. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles, Night_**

Angel, Wesley and Spike were walking along the hallway of an apartment building. They’d left Fred and Cordelia at the hotel and Gunn still hadn’t shown up since he left Merl’s lair. 

“What’s this one?” Angel asked. 

“Ah, Samuel Larch, a bookie. Merl owed him quite a lot of money,” Wesley said. 

“Demon or human?” Spike asked. 

“I’m not sure.” 

Angel looked at the door marked ‘424’ and sighed, “Care to find out?” With that, he kicked the door open. Wesley watched as Angel and Spike walked across the threshold. He pulled out a dagger and followed. “Demon it is then.” 

They looked around the room at the carnage. There was yellow slime splashed on the walls and broken furniture scattered from one end to the other. 

“I think when we find whatever is doing this, we’re going to need Gunn,” Angel observed. 

“I agree,” Wesley said. “From the looks of this, whatever we’re up against is . . . quite big, extremely powerful . . .” 

“. . . And really pissed off,” Spike finished. “It doesn’t leave odds for survival does it?” 

An hour later, Angel had left Wesley and Spike to go over the apartment while he looked in on other names on the list. Wesley found a broken arrow head that had come from a crossbow bolt. He stood up and held it out for inspection. Just then, Gunn appeared in the doorway of the apartment. 

Spike saw him and dropped what he was doing. “I’m going to go find Angel, see if he needs help with anything.” He pointedly ignored Gunn as he brushed past him on his way out the door. 

“I got your page,” Gunn said, addressing Wesley. “Where’s Angel?” 

“He’s checking on something else. Come in.” Wesley waved him in. “The victim’s name was Samuel Larch. We found him last night.” 

Gunn moved closer to a wall, examining the yellow slime that painted it and the smashed furniture. “The guy was a demon.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wesley? What are we doing, man? Who are we supposed to be working for, anyway? Did the Powers send us here? Did Cordy get a vision?” 

“No,” Wesley replied simply. 

“Then what?” 

“Charles, things aren’t always as simple as going out and slaying the big, bad ugly. There are – in this world – shades of gray,” Wesley explained. 

“Yeah,” Gunn agreed. “And shades of green and a kind of sickly looking yellow with pink eyes and sometimes puss with horns, too. I get it. What I don’t get is _why_ we’re suddenly playing cleanup crew to a bunch of lowlife demons! I mean, okay, so we – we bust our butts day and night until we find whatever it was that did Merl and this Larch guy . . .” 

“And six other victims we believe we’ve linked to it,” Wesley added. 

“So we find this demon killing machine. What then? Are we going to stop it or thank it?” 

Wesley considered the question for a moment, “I don’t know.” 

Gunn shook his head as he turned away from the former Watcher. “You don’t know?” 

Wesley tossed the little plastic bag holding the arrowhead on the pile of similarly labeled bags on the coffee table. “From everything I can determine this victim was fully assimilated. No history of violence, no threat to anyone. Of the other six, at least two of those _would_ have to be classified as irredeemably evil.” 

Gunn plopped down on the sofa. “So what are you saying then? ” 

“I’m saying that whatever is responsible for these attacks _isn’t_ making any distinctions. It’s just killing . . . randomly,” Wesley explained. 

Twenty minutes later, Angel and Spike appeared in the doorway. Spike’s jeans were inexplicably covered in muddy sewer water from the knees down while Angel looked untouched. 

“You were right,” Angel said, addressing Wesley. “It happened again.” 

“When?” Wesley asked with a raised brow at the condition of Spike’s jeans. 

Gunn pocketed the bag with the arrowhead when no one was looking. 

“Last night. A Yarbnie was eviscerated in the sewer near Century City,” Angel reported. 

That seemed to be of interest to Wesley as he rushed over to his satchel to retrieve something. 

“What’s a Yarbnie?” Gunn asked as he got up to leave. 

“Yarbnie. It’s a balancing entity. They tend to nest in urban areas under roadways – utterly non-violent,” Wesley said as he continued searching through his bag. He found his notebook and started jotting a few things down. 

“You know what? Uhm, maybe I should hit the streets. You know, see if I can shake anything loose. I mean if you want,” Gunn suggested. 

Angel looked skeptical between Wesley and Gunn. Wesley looked up at Gunn. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” 

“Hey,” Gunn said as he passed Angel and Spike on the way out. 

“Hey,” Angel greeted as Spike gave a small wave. Angel glanced after Gunn and then turned back to watch Wesley write in his notebook. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Night_**

Evidence bags and open books were spread out on the round settee in the Hyperion’s lobby. Wesley, Cordelia and Fred had left a half hour before to go to Caritas so that Lorne could read Fred’s aura. The only ones left were Spike and Angel idling around the lobby going over the reports of murdered demons. Gunn walked into the dimly lit lobby to find Spike sitting behind the reception desk and Angel walking in from Wesley’s office as he looked through some reports. 

He glanced up and saw Gunn standing just inside the hotel. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Gunn greeted as he moved down into the lobby. “Are you the only two here?” 

“Yeah,” Angel replied. 

“You, uh, making any progress?” Gunn stammered. 

“I don’t know,” Angel said, putting the folder down on the desk at the opposite end from where Spike was. “Maybe. Wesley thinks these crimes have been random. I’m starting to think otherwise.” 

“Oh?” Gunn inquired. 

“Yeah, it’s just the way it’s happening. It reminds me of things I’ve seen before,” Angel explained. 

“How so?” Gunn asked. 

“I know the pattern. The seeming randomness of it, the chaos,” Angel sighed. “There is a larger purpose behind every move.” 

“What’s that?” 

“To have a bit of fun,” Spike said. 

Gunn just stood there at a loss for words. If Spike didn’t know any better, he would have thought Gunn was as white as Michael Jackson and looked like he’d seen a ghost all at once. 

Angel looked at Gunn strangely. “Something wrong?” 

Gunn shook himself. “Nah, I just need to see the boss. Do you know where he’s at?” 

“He and Cordy took Fred to Caritas,” Spike replied. 

“Thanks.” 

Angel and Spike watched Gunn leave with a peculiar expression on their faces. The vampire hunter had been acting odd for a while now. 

“What do you think is up with him?” Spike asked. 

“I haven’t the faintest idea what’s going on with him,” Angel said. 

The two vampires worked side by side at the reception desk, each going over his report on the case. To an outsider, it all seemed very safe and unassuming. But unless someone was really paying attention, they wouldn’t see Spike glance at Angel out of the corner of his eye. They wouldn’t notice the shifting on the seat as Angel tried to relieve the pressure on his cock. Or the way a palm rubbed his crotch as Spike tried to make his erection go away. 

“You know,” they said in unison. 

“What?” Angel asked, giving Spike a heated glance. 

“The humans have gone to Caritas for a few hours,” Spike said suggestively. 

“Uh huh,” Angel said as he watched his childe’s lips move, imagining them around his aching erection. 

They mirrored each other sliding off the stools and moving closer to each other. Angel slid his hands under Spike’s coat and pulled him closer to grind their groins against each other. 

“And we’re not getting anywhere on this case,” Spike said as he unbuttoned Angel’s shirt. 

“I did, they’re doing it for fun, weren’t you listening to the conversation I had with Gunn a moment ago?” Angel teased. 

“Gunn was here, when?” Spike smirked. 

“Very funny,” Angel whispered as he pulled Spike’s t-shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. “Go on with your reasoning.” 

“Where was I?” Spike feigned ignorance. He started to unbuckle Angel’s belt and work on the buttons on the pants. 

“The gang is gone for a few hours, we’re not getting anywhere on the case,” Angel mouthed against Spike’s ear as he unfastened the blonde’s jeans. 

Spike grabbed two fistfuls of Angel’s shirt and walked backward around the reception desk, stumbling up the first flight of stairs. Angel followed, groping Spike which had caused the younger vampire to trip. They collapsed on the second floor landing. Angel immediately started kissing his way down the pale neck, working his hands inside the black jeans to cup the firm ass. 

“Angel, stop,” Spike panted even as he gripped Angel’s shoulders and held on tighter. 

“Stop? Why stop? I thought you wanted this?” Angel breathed. 

“I do. But I want to try that shower we just bought and had to install ourselves,” Spike explained as he tried to wiggle out from under the bulk of his Sire. 

All of sudden Angel’s weight was gone and he was on his feet pulling Spike up off the floor. Spike grabbed Angel’s belt buckle, yanked the strip of leather out of the loops and then ran down the hall laughing with his Sire chasing after him. At the second floor of rooms, Angel had to stop and pick up discarded clothing. He collected everything but his belt. Just as he reached the room he shared with his wayward mate, the belt in question was draped over the doorknob. 

Angel grabbed the belt, adding it to the pile of clothes in the crook of his arm and walked into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed the clothes in the dirty clothes basket and slowly stripped himself. By the time he was done and heading for the shower, he could hear the spray. 

Angel opened the door and stepped inside the stall to find Spike writhing like a cat in heat under the spray from the jets. Angel stood back, letting the shower engulf him in warmth, feeling the water cascade over him. He was enjoying the heat and the sight of his childe luxuriating in the new shower. 

The Jacuzzi itself took up one wall, from the top of the spigot to three-quarters down the wall. There was a seat in one corner, a place for shampoo, conditioner, soap, and cloth rack. To Angel, it had all the amenities but the proverbial kitchen’s sink. 

Spike turned around, standing chest to chest with his mate. Taking a bottle of designer brand shower gel, he poured a good portion into his palm and started to foam it up. The scent that permeated the air was a mixture of vanilla, amber and musk. Then, he proceeded to wash Angel from neck to toe, deftly bypassing his cock, which was erect and seemed very interested. 

When Spike stood up from his task, Angel pushed him back against the wall and kissed him. The jetted water beat a pattern on his back as he nibbled on Spike’s lips, kissing his way down to his neck, burying his face in the curve. Spike tried to reach for him when Angel reluctantly pulled away to return the favor. 

Ignoring his own need for release, Angel washed Spike. The dark vampire turned him around to face the wall as he washed his back and then back around to crouch down and wash Spike’s legs. The blonde vampire used the opportunity to wash Angel’s hair with a cheaper brand of shampoo. After Spike rinsed out the shampoo and conditioner, Angel stood up to wash Spike’s hair. 

Unlike most showers which would have ran cold within the hour, when they were finished, the water from the Jacuzzi was still warm. Angel sat down on the corner seat/shelf and Spike straddled his waist. The blonde vampire stroked his cock as he watched his Sire lube himself with the conditioner. The elder vampire held onto his hip guiding him down onto his erection. 

Angel silently thanked his team as he pushed deeper into Spike’s body. Once he was embedded, Spike decided to prove how lithe and flexible he was by performing a backbend that resulted in his shoulders meeting the non-slip decals on the shower floor. They both groaned as the movement caused Angel’s cock to rub against Spike’s prostate. 

The incline position Spike was in was the sexiest thing Angel could ever remember seeing. The hardened erection lay against his boy’s stomach. Angel caressed his hands along the tight muscles of Spike’s stomach and then back over the hard cock. He started to move inside the younger vampire with long, slow strokes, groaning as he watched Spike stroke himself to the same rhythm. 

In his mind’s eye, Angel could see them: the warm Jacuzzi shower pouring down over them as they fucked just like this. The image made him harder. He slid down to the floor on his knees, laying Spike on his back. Grabbing Spike’s hips, he started pounding harder and faster into his boy’s body, his vision taking in Spike’s masturbation and the sex-glazed eyes. 

“So this is why you wanted the shower? So I would fuck you like this in it?” Angel rasped. 

“Found me out pet,” Spike groaned. “Made you buy the shower so you’d bugger me to hell and back in it.” 

“I’ll fuck you anywhere I like because you’re mine. I didn’t need a shower that costs a fortune to do that,” Angel growled as he tried to bury his cock deeper inside Spike. 

“Is that right?” Spike groaned. “Fuck me then.” 

Spike squeezed his cock harder, stroking faster as he clenched his inner muscles around Angel’s cock. Between the jets massaging their bodies and stimulation from Spike’s muscles contracting around him, Angel felt his orgasm rushing on. Wanting his boy with him, Angel sped up his thrusts. He pulled Spike up to sit astride his lap, then held the slighter body to him as he pumped stream after stream of cum inside his boy. Spike’s body quaked around his Sire as his semen coated both their stomachs. 

After a moment, Angel spoke up, “Do you think we can move the afterglow to a more comfortable place? My legs are starting to ache.” 

“They haven’t had time to ache, Angel,” Spike chuckled. 

He carefully slid away from his Sire, got to his feet and helped the elder vampire up. They washed each other down again before stepping out and wrapping themselves in the warm towels from the new heated cabinet. They kept the towels for as long as it took to get into bed under the covers and reached for each other again.


	6. Chapter 36-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 36-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 3)_

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

“. . . And then some day, you’d leave me for somebody new,” Fred sang. 

Gunn walked into the karaoke club and smiled when saw Fred on stage. Then, he spotted Wesley and Cordelia at a table and walked in the opposite direction towards the bar, almost colliding with Lorne. He leaned on the bar beside the green demon, but refused to look at him. However, Lorne watched him. 

“I know what you’re doing and don’t!” Gunn said flatly. 

Lorne sipped at his drink silently, still looking at Gunn. 

“Stop it! Do. Not,” Gunn commanded as he turned to face Lorne. “Hey! Don’t go reading me!” 

“I wouldn’t. But sweetie, you’re a billboard,” Lorne said. Gunn turned to look at Wesley’s table. Lorne filled in the blanks and said, “Yeah, he came in tonight with some questions. It looks to me like you’ve got the answers.” 

“I really don’t feel like going over there,” Gunn groaned. 

“Yeah, I know. So, do you want to talk about it?” Lorne asked. 

Gunn watched Fred sing the next line in Patsy Cline’s **_Crazy for You_** before asking drolly, “Do I have to sing?” 

Just then, guys with machine guns galloped down the stairs and opened fire on the demonic clientele. Fred was splattered by demon blood and fell off the stool she was sitting on. Gunn grabbed Lorne and they took cover behind the bar. 

“Go. Down! Come on!” Gunn said, pushing Lorne down to the floor. 

Wesley and Cordelia tipped their table over and crouched behind it. Demons were riddled with holes as bullets sprayed the air. One of the intruders took a shot at the bar, breaking the bottles lining the wall behind the bar. Gio sauntered into the center of the room, resting his sawed off shotgun on his shoulder and looked around with a big grin. 

“Party! Yoo-hoo!” Gio yelled. 

“Oh, my club!” Lorne cried as more gunfire rent the air. 

Wesley peeked around his barricade just in time to see Fred stand up on stage. He ran out from his cover and jumped on the stage. He picked her up and made his way back to Cordelia and the table. 

“What’s happening? I thought demon violence was impossible in here,” Cordelia whispered. 

“Those aren't demons,” Wesley informed her. 

One of the gang dusted a vampire with a modified stake gun. 

“It’s time! Let’s truck,” Rondell ordered. 

“Woah, don’t be in such a rush, man! You’re always in such a hurry. You’re liable to miss out on some of the more interesting things in life,” Gio said and then called out, “Yo! Charlie Gunn! Come on, now. I know you’re in here. Where are you at?” 

Gunn stood up behind the bar. “I’m right here.” 

Several guys spun around and cocked their weapons, aiming them at Gunn. 

“What are you doing here?” Rondell asked surprised. 

Gio grinned maliciously. “Come on. Tell him! Tell him how you been rolling up in here for _months_ tossing back drinks with your demon buddies.” Gunn just stood there. 

“What he’s saying . . . that ain’t true,” Rondell said, shaking his head disbelievingly. 

“Why not?” Gio asked. “His best friend is a _vampire_. What did you expect?” 

“Rondell, go. Just take your crew and leave,” Gunn said softly. 

“No. Not until I get some answers,” Rondell said. 

“That’s right, answers,” Gio nodded. “The man wants some answers.” 

Wesley stood up purposefully. “Yes, I think we all would.” 

“Wesley!” Cordelia hissed from her cover of the table. 

“Wes, stay out of this,” Gunn pleaded. 

“As much as I would like to, I’m afraid I’m in it. We all are,” Wesley said solemnly. 

Lorne slowly stood up and looked around at the damage to his club. Gio motioned to two guys. They grabbed the demon and hustled him out into the open. Gunn immediately stepped between them and shielded Lorne with his body. 

“Hey. Hey! That’s enough!” Gunn said as he pushed one of the men away. 

A few demons were whimpering and muttering in the background. Rondell pointed his gun at his friend standing next to the empath demon. 

“I don’t believe this,” Rondell sneered. 

“He’s okay, man,” Gunn said. 

“Uh, nice!” Gio smirked as he watched a vampire shield a demon from harm. 

“He ain’t okay. Look at him!” Rondell said as he waved the gun between his friend and Lorne. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Rondell,” Gunn said, trying to disable the situation the best he could. 

“It was them,” Wesley spoke up. “They killed Merl and the others.” Gunn and Wesley looked at each other for a long moment. Gunn looked as if he were trying to hide something. Wesley glared at him. “You knew.” 

“I should have said something. I was going to. I was just . . . I was trying to work it out, man. Figure how to deal,” Gunn said apologetically. 

Lorne jabbed him in the shoulder and nearly screeched, “So, have you worked it out yet?” 

“I’m sorry,” Gunn said over his shoulder. 

Rondell raised his gun at his former friend. “You’re going to apologize to this thing?” Gunn stepped in front of Lorne again, shielding him from Rondell’s gun. 

“You can’t do that, man. I can’t let you. You lost the mission, bro,” Gunn said regretfully. 

“What?!” Rondell yelled. Gio aimed his weapon at Gunn. 

“What you’ve been doing, man, this ain’t right,” Gunn said. “None of this is right! This is not what we’re about.” 

Rondell cocked his weapon in Gunn’s face. “The hell you say. I don’t know what you’re about, but we’ve been doing what we’ve always done: protect our own.” 

“And is it ‘protecting your own’ to break into other people’s homes?” Wesley asked accusingly. 

“They ain’t people!” Rondell said angrily. He turned the gun on Wesley. “Are you?” 

Cordelia stood up beside Wesley ready to argue with Rondell’s treatment of her co-worker and friend, but guns were immediately aimed at her as well and she thought better of it. However, that didn’t stop her from trying to save her own life. 

“Stop! Stop it!” she demanded. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer a clean kill. The last time I was merely wounded. It took months to heal,” Wesley said patronizingly as he took a step closer to Rondell. “Wounded, if I recall, in an attempt to help you.” 

“Look at me. Look at me!” Gunn said trying to get Rondell and his weapon trained on him again. “That’s got nothing to do with them. This is between us.” Rondell chanced a look over his shoulder at Gunn. “ _Us_. Let them go, man.” 

“Yeah, why not? We can do that,” Gio grinned. “After all . . . we ain’t _monsters_.” 

Gunn threw his keys at Wesley’s feet. “Take my truck. It’s on the south side. They won’t stop you.” 

Wesley didn’t move, leaving Cordelia to pick up the keys. Rondell pivoted on his heel and aim his weapon a Gunn again. 

“How can you be sitting up in here with these things and tell me I’m the one that lost the mission?” 

“Because it’s true,” Gunn said sadly. “We used to face death because we had to. Now you’re chasing it down, man, for the fun of it. That ain’t right.” 

Rondell caught a movement in his peripheral vision and spun around, aiming his gun at Cordelia who was helping Fred up. 

“One! Just one. Her,” Rondell ordered. Cordelia looked fearfully at Wesley. “The others stay.” 

“Rondell, come on, man!” Gunn said, worried about the outcome of this standoff. 

“I’m not leaving here without her,” Cordelia said defiantly as she put an arm around Fred. “No way.” 

A few gang members pulled Fred away from her and hustled Cordelia towards the door with her screaming, “No! No!” Wesley pulled Fred to his side and the gang members released her to step back and aim their guns at the couple again. 

“The rest will be able to leave _after_ she brings the vampire,” Rondell said, glancing at Gunn. “Then we’ll see who lost the mission.” He motioned to Cordelia with his weapon. “Go.” 

Cordelia exchanged a look with Gunn who nodded, and slowly left the building. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel crawled out of bed and slipped on a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a dark purple silk shirt. On the other side of the bed, Spike was throwing his clothes on. Angel looked over his shoulder, watching Spike. His body was completely relaxed. The shower was a great investment, especially when it led to getting his childe to indulge him like this. He felt invigorated. Next stop: the coming apocalypse. He puffed out his chest at that thought. 

As he threaded a belt through his pants, he looked at Spike’s back as the blonde hunched over. Images of the past few hours fluttered through his mind: the urgent shower sex, the calmer sex in bed. Feeling Spike’s fingers and tongue do things Angelus would never allow back in the day. Angel cleared his throat, trying to ignore the erection that re-emerged. Thank God he had fastened his pants before that happened. It would have been a bitch to get them closed otherwise. 

It was a shame he had to leave first, but he had to go downstairs to make sure no-one needed him. After all, no matter how he chose to spend his time, he was still a champion of the people. All hours of the day people needed to be saved. Spike turned around now, fully dressed. He raked his eyes over Angel’s body and smiled knowing they wouldn’t be doing anything else tonight. 

“I guess it’s back to work for us, eh?” Spike said as he moved towards the door. 

Angel laid his hand over Spike’s on the doorknob. Dark eyes stared down into brilliant blue. Then, the larger vampire leaned closer and bestowed a chaste kiss on his mate’s lips before walking out the door, leaving Spike speechless at how gentle it was. 

Angel walked down the hallway with a bounce in his step and a Cheshire grin on his face. He knew he’d surprised his childe by his actions. It wasn’t every day that he got one up on Spike. It felt great to be the one with the upper hand. Though, he had the upper hand a few hours ago when Spike was writhing all over the bed. Angel smirked at that image. And they said a man couldn’t achieve multiple orgasms. 

His expression dropped when he reached the second floor landing and saw Cordelia rushing in the door yelling his name frantically and something about saving Fred from a gang with guns. 

Angel met Cordelia halfway down the stairs. He tried to make sense of her babbling, but it seemed as if Queen C was back and he could barely make anything out of the mile-a-minute speech. He grabbed her upper arms and held her still. Having finally caught up, Spike was standing a few steps above them watching Cordelia talk a marathon. 

“Cordy! Calm down!” Angel said over the jumbled words. “No one can understand you when you talk like that.” 

Cordelia stopped talking all together and took deep breaths. Angel heard her heart rate slow down to a normal rhythm, and he was sure Spike could hear it as well. He released his hold on her and waited for her to speak. 

“Wes and I took Fred to Caritas so that Lorne could read her aura when she sang. She picked out **_Crazy for You_** by Patsy Cline. Talk about irony. What were the chances that she’d choose that song?” Cordelia said. 

“Cordy! Get to the point,” Spike said. 

“I will if you’d let me talk,” Cordelia shot back. 

“Cordelia. Today,” Angel said, quickly losing patience. 

“We were there and everything was fine until Gunn’s old crew showed up with guns,” she said. 

Spike looked at Angel. “I thought violence was prohibited in Caritas.” 

“Demon violence,” Angel corrected. 

“Not so much with human violence,” Cordelia added. Angel looked at her waiting for her to continue. “Anyway, they shot the whole place up.” 

“Where are Fred and Wes?” Angel asked. 

“Back at Caritas,” she replied. 

“Why didn’t they come back with you?” Spike growled. 

“I tried! Rondell wouldn’t let me bring Fred back. He said that they could leave when you showed up,” Cordelia said tearfully. 

Angel looked between Spike and Cordelia, and then rushed down the stairs. “Looks like they get what they asked for. I’m going to have to go there and get them out.” 

Spike followed him. “Angel, wait. You can’t just go in there and expect them to hand Fred over. They have guns for fuck’s sake. They’ll just as soon kill her and Wesley and possibly Gunn if you go.” 

“I don’t see much choice do you?” Angel asked over his shoulder. 

“Then, I’m going with you. I’ve been itching for a spot of violence,” Spike said. 

Cordelia rushed down the stairs after them. “Wait guys! We have to think of a better plan. This is a bad plan and I’ll tell you why: it’s _their_ plan! They want you to go there where you _can’t_ fight, so they can kill you!” 

“I know!” Angel yelled back as he searched for a weapon, tossing one to Spike. 

“It’ll be suicide!” she added. 

“It’ll be okay,” Angel said, shrugging into his coat. 

“It won’t be! Angel, you didn’t see these guys,” Cordelia insisted. 

“Think they’re the Big Bad do they?” Spike mused. 

“Right, only badder! They killed Merl and the others! Spike, stop him from going!” Cordelia pleaded. 

“I can’t. We have to do this. Guns won’t kill us,” Spike said. 

“They have more than guns. That pipsqueak of a leader has a crossbow too!” 

“Right, so demons are the only ones affected by the ward?” Spike asked rhetorically. “How are we going to protect our people, Angel?” 

Angel thrilled inwardly that Spike considered the team to be a part of his life. He hurriedly scribbled an address on a slip of paper and handed it to Cordelia. “Here. I want you to go to this address.” 

Cordelia looked at it in confusion. “What is it?” 

“Transuding furies,” Angel replied. 

“Gesundheit,” Cordelia said reflexively. 

“They are three sisters. Lorne pays them monthly to cast the sanctorium spell on Caritas. Tell them to lift the spell, and then we’ll be able to fight back.” 

Cordelia nodded in agreement. “They lift the spell and you can fight – all twenty of them and still get killed. Great idea.” 

“Cordy, please just do it,” Angel said exasperated. 

“What if they won’t lift the spell?” Cordelia asked with a raised brow. 

Angel and Spike started walking towards the door with Cordelia following. 

“They’ll lift the spell,” Angel said matter-of-factly. “Just tell them that it’s for . . . me.” 

“For you?” Spike inquired with an arched brow. “You know them? For having a guilt-ridden soul, you got around.” 

“I did.” Angel replied, giving Spike a sidelong glance that said: ‘Don’t start with me’. 

“They’re going to remember you?” Cordelia asked. 

“They should,” Angel replied. 

“They better!” Cordelia yelled after him. 

“And of course it wasn’t perfect happiness or anything, ’cause then we wouldn’t be talking about them now,” Spike teased. 

“We did not get that close,” Angel said. “But no, I doubt they could. If you haven’t, they couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Spike said indignantly. 

“Angel!” The anxious sound in her voice stopped the vampire in his tracks and he turned around to see the anguish on her face. “I told her she was safe with me.” 

Angel sighed. “I know.” 

“We’ll get her back,” Spike promised as he walked out the door with Angel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

When Angel and Spike walked into Caritas the sense of fear hit them like a blast of air. They examined the scene with a cursory glance. Demon bloodshed and vampire dust was everywhere, but the team was intact. With an inward sigh of relief, they walked into the center of the room. 

Angel took inventory of his team: Lorne was protected by the bar while Wesley and Fred were behind an overturned table. Gunn was at a standoff with a short black man wearing a smug expression on his face. Taking in the dramatic scene, Angel hoped that Cordelia would get the wards removed in time. He cautiously moved closer to the group of humans, trying not to worry about the spell that prevented him from fighting back. 

Looking at the smirk on the leader’s face, Angel threw caution to the wind and punched the boy. He was surprised when the flash barrier didn’t throw him backwards as it had Merl. He watched as Gio flew through the air and landed on a table a few feet away, knocking it over and landed on the ground. Angel smirked. Maybe because of his soul, he could still defend these helpless beings and his crew. 

Spike stared in shock at what Angel had done. He straightened up, wondering if he could do the same. 

Sensing Spike’s movement, Angel put his arm out, keeping his childe behind him. 

Gunn dared to glance away from his target and tried to examine the situation objectively. He watched his old crew with hard eyes and then looked at the people he’d been working with these past few months. The Angel Investigations team didn’t take the easy way out, or go after defenseless demons. They did the difficult stuff. They tried to make the world around them a better place, not a macabre nightmare that would start a demon war. 

He made his decision! He was part of Angel’s team. He knew the difference between black and white, and the gray in between. Angel, Wesley, Cordelia, Spike, even Fred didn’t hide behind senseless acts of violence. They didn’t bully defenseless people or demons. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Transuding Furies Townhouse_**

Cordelia sat on the couch with three gorgeous immortal women floating in the air across from her. Angel never mentioned they were so beautiful. There was a glow that radiated from them. Cordelia felt a more than a little envious. 

“So, ah, Angel says you and he go . . . way back?” 

“Mmmm, Angel,” they moaned in unison. 

“Uh, yeah,” Cordelia felt at a loss for how to go about the task of asking them to lift the spell. It seemed they _definitely_ remembered Angel. “So, um, about that sanctorium mojo you got on Caritas. Any chance you can pull the plug on that like now – for instance?” she asked nervously. “It’s kind of an emergency.” 

“You would have us lift . . .” 

“. . . What has been put in place . . .” 

“. . . By mutual consent and contract?” 

“If you don’t, Angel will die,” Cordelia pointed out. 

“Mmmm, Angel,” they moaned in unison. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

Gunn looked at Angel standing before him in his demon face. Gio was across the room on the floor, rubbing his jaw from Angel’s punch. Rondell had given Gunn a stake, daring his former friend to choose sides by staking the vampire, a souled vampire which seemed to have more morals than his old crew. After a few seconds of deliberation, Gunn dropped the stake. 

“That’s not going to happen.” 

“I knew it!” Gio said accusingly. 

“You don’t know anything,” Gunn snapped over his shoulder. “You think I won’t kill him because he’s my friend?” He watched Angel shift back to his human visage. “That ain’t why.” He stepped closer to the vampire, sizing him up. “Truth is he can never be my friend. It’s on account of what he is. Not his fault, really. It’s just the way it worked out.” 

“He ain’t your friend,” Rondell said angrily. “ _I_ am. And you’re going to choose that over me?” 

Gunn looked back at Rondell. “Looks like. It’s about the mission, bro. He’s got it. You don’t.” 

“Oh. So . . . you think, just because you’re letting that monster live you got the mission, huh?” Gio said as he got to his feet. “Well, as far as I can see, a monster lover isn’t no better than a monster, and I kill monsters. That’s what I do.” Gio swiveled around and with a hard look, challenged the patrons in the room. “So, anybody wants to walk out of here tonight, they’re going to have to show me.” When no one made a move, he tried again. “Come on! Step up and do what your friend here wouldn’t: kill the vampire – and you can leave this place. Otherwise, stay and burn with the rest of them.” Gio held up his crossbow and looked pointedly at Fred and the group of humans huddled together behind her. “Who wants to live?” 

Fred slowly stood up from her chair and looked over at Angel and Spike. She didn’t like feeling like a coward. She’d survived in a cave for five years as a fugitive slave cow. Now, here she was again with her life in peril and the only way to survive was to kill her champion and protector. The thought made her stomach churn nauseously. 

“I’m sorry. I just – I don’t wanna die,” she said by way of apology as Gio offered her the crossbow with a big grin of his face. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Transuding Furies Townhouse_**

“Look, this is _really_ urgent,” Cordelia insisted, agitated. “I know Lorne pays you to cast this spell. What will it take for you to lift it?” 

“This is not . . .” 

“. . . A debt . . .” 

“. . . You can pay.” 

“You don’t know that,” Cordelia said indignantly. “My credit has been _very_ good this last year.” 

“Only Angel . . .” 

“. . . Is equipped . . .” 

“. . . To make good . . .” 

“. . . On this debt.” 

“Angel?” Cordelia scoffed. “I don’t know. For a guy who’s a couple of centuries old, he’s not very big with the wise investing.” Then it hit her and she looked at them inquisitively, noting the smiles on their faces. “And when you say ‘equipped’ that isn’t what you mean, is it?” 

“Mmmm, Angel,” they moaned in unison. 

“Got it,” Cordelia said looking chagrinned. “And eww!” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

Fred took the crossbow from Gio and put it on her right arm. She looked apologetic at the two vampires. They both stared her down, remaining unfazed by the turn of events. 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t die in here,” she apologized again as she aimed the crossbow at Angel. 

Spike was going to move to stop her, but Angel’s hand on his chest stopped him. He held his other hand out to Fred. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” Angel said. 

Spike looked concerned between his Sire and the willowy girl who seemed too small to hold up a big crossbow rig such as the one Fred had trained on them. 

Gio leaned in close to the girl. “Alright, now you wanna get it in the heart or it’s no good.” Then, he took a step back to give her some room. 

Fred looked uncertain at her champion and protector. She took a couple of deep breaths. Suddenly, she spun around and aimed the bow at Gio. 

“Although, I thought I might just shoot you in the throat instead. Now, if I pierce one of your carotid arteries, considering the temperature in here – ’cause I think someone shot the thermostat – the blood loss is gonna be heavy. And there’s a chance I’ll puncture a vocal chord and you won’t even be able to scream. But, you’ll want to when the blood loss to your brain results in a cerebral vascular event. That’s a stroke. I wasn’t trying to sound snooty.” 

“Fred. Fred, it’s okay,” Angel said quietly. “Just point it at me, at _me_ , Fred.” 

Fred shook her head negatively, still training the weapon on Gio’s throat. “I can’t.” 

Angel looked back to make sure Spike stayed where he was. The last thing he needed was this to go wrong and Fred ended up hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened. She was the one symbol of something he did right for humanity, whereas Spike was the one thing he did right for himself. 

Angel inched closer to her. “Yes, you can. It’s okay, really.” 

Fred looked back at Angel, chewing her bottom lip. It was only for half a second, but that was long enough for Gio to rip the bow from her hand and push her away. Thankfully, Wesley caught her as she fell. Gio pointed the bow at Angel and fired the bolt just as a flash of light illuminated the room. The arrow went through Angel’s shoulder a few inches above his heart. 

“Aw, hell! That hurts!” Angel grunted. 

The velocity of the arrow shot the shaft through front and back, forcing Angel’s shoulder to kick back with the strength of impact. Spike stepped forward and broke the tip off so that Angel could pull the shaft back through with a growl. 

“I really hate when people shoot me,” Angel said as he threw the arrow shaft on the ground. 

Blood seeped into his shirt as he stared down Gio. The black man had notched another arrow, aimed it at Spike and pulled the trigger. The shaft whizzed through the air, but stopped inches from the blonde vampire when it was caught in mid air. 

“I have a feeling the rules have changed,” Angel said ominously before throwing the arrow and punctured Gio’s calf. 

Gio screamed as the pain forced him to his knees. Angel kicked the crossbow out of Gio’s hand then turned around to disarm the guy standing next to him. Wesley handed Fred over to Lorne as he, Gunn and Spike rushed into the fray to help Angel against the gang. 

“Come on guys! Fight back! It’s ten against four!” Gio rallied as he stood up and limped around with the arrow still in his leg. He stumbled back against the stage. “This is pathetic! Hey, I’m done with you people. I don’t even know why I came out to this coast! L.A. sucks! I’m going back to Florida, alright? You’re lucky I don’t have my old crew.” The head of a gray demon sitting behind Gio split apart and morphed into a huge insect monster. “I’d drag you out on the beach for a little sunshine and toast your . . .” 

At that moment, the insect monster leaned down and bit Gio’s head off and leaned back to swallow it in one gulp. Everything stopped and everyone looked on in stunned silence. That was, until Rondell lifted his shotgun and unloaded it into the big monster’s chest. The body dropped to the ground. The whole scene put a damper on the brawl as it lost its momentum with Gio’s death. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Outside Caritas_**

Wesley helped Fred into the back of a taxi while Gunn talked to Rondell and his old gang. 

“I guess we just have to go our own separate ways, man,” Gunn said regrettably. 

“All right,” Rondell agreed. 

“Be well.” 

Rondell and the gang walked away and Gunn turned back to Wesley who waited beside the cab. 

“I don’t guess Rondell and his crew are gonna be crossing Venice Boulevard again anytime soon,” Gunn commented. 

“It’s never easy . . . the pull of divided loyalties. Whatever choice we do make ends up making us feel as though we’ve betrayed someone,” Wesley empathized. 

“Yeah,” Gunn agreed. 

Then, Wesley hardened. “If you ever withhold information or attempt to subvert me again, I will fire you. I can’t have any one member of the team compromising the safety of the group, no matter who it is. If you do it again, you will be dismissed: bag and baggage, out of a job and on the streets.” 

The two vampires walked out of the club, Angel had an arm slung across Spike’s shoulders, leaning heavily on his childe. There were various wounds in his body in stages of healing. Spike wasn’t much worse: a black eye, as well as cuts and bruises on his face and body. However, Spike was the one still walking on his own, whereas low growling sounds escaped Angel with each movement. 

Wesley got into the taxi with Fred without a backward glance. Gunn watched the taxi pull away, and then turned to see Angel and Spike. He walked over to them. 

“So, are you going to get on me about all those things I said to you in there?” Gunn asked, prepared for the worst. 

“No,” Angel groaned. 

“You understand that I had to stall, just had to keep it going,” Gunn said. 

“Yeah, I get that.” 

“It doesn’t mean I _meant_ any of it,” Gunn said plaintively. 

“No, you meant all of it, but that’s okay,” Angel countered. 

“I can’t help the way I feel, man. That’s just the way it is. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to work with you. It doesn’t even mean that I don’t like you. Maybe someday, I don’t know,” Gunn said. 

“I don’t know either, but I got time,” Angel said as he turned and started to hobble away. Spike resisted and glared at Gunn. 

“I don’t care how you feel about us as demons, mate. But, if you put Cordy and Fred in a situation like that again. I’ll end you without a second thought,” Spike said calmly and walked away, helping Angel down the alley to where the convertible was parked. 

They got a few feet away before Gunn called out, “Hey!” They turned and looked at him. “No matter what else happened, I think I proved that you can trust me when I could have killed you and I didn’t.” 

“No,” Angel said flatly. “You’ll prove that I can trust you when the day comes that you _have_ to kill me – and you do.” 

Gunn watched as Angel and Spike hobbled away and then he headed in the opposite direction. 

“That was a little harsh don’t you think?” Angel asked. 

“I could say the same for you. You’ll trust him when he kills you? What the bloody hell was that?” Spike scoffed. 

“Perspective.” Angel groaned at the pain shooting through his body. “God this hurts. I can’t wait ’til we get home and I can use that Jacuzzi again.” 

“It’s what you get when you’re shot and stabbed, pillock,” Spike retorted. “Why did you have to park so far away?” 

“It didn’t seem that far when we got here,” Angel said defensively. 

“Well, you’re not fit to drive,” Spike said flippantly. 

In response, Angel stopped, dug into his pocket and handed over the car keys. “Try not to make us any deader driving home.” 

**************************

**_Los Angles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel and Spike walked into the hotel sans Gunn. The parts to Fred’s new tub were still sitting in the lobby off to the side. Wesley, Cordelia and Fred met them. They all looked at the parts and groaned. Exchanging a weary look, Angel shrugged and headed for the kitchen to fix a mug of blood for himself and Spike. After what happened at the club, he needed it and thought Spike did as well. 

Angel took his mug out of the microwave and drank it down quickly while waiting for Spike’s blood to heat up in the microwave. When it didn’t feel like the blood had done anything, it was apparent that Angel’s injuries – especially the one in his shoulder – were not going to heal rapidly. Fixing another mug for himself, he glowered at the microwave with Spike’s mug spinning around slowly inside. He wouldn’t be strong enough to help take the tub up to Fred’s room. 

Angel came out of the kitchen and handed Spike his blood. The younger vampire drank it as he exchanged a look with Wesley. It seemed if they wanted to move the object, it was up to them and maybe Cordelia if they could con her into it. 

“I don’t see why I have to do this,” Cordelia grumbled. “Why don’t we just call Gunn?” 

“Because after what happened tonight, he needs a breather,” Spike replied, setting the empty mug on the counter. “Why are you complaining anyway? I’m the one that’s doing most of the soddin’ work to get this thing up the stairs. You’re just making sure it doesn’t slide down the steps.” 

“You never took a science course when you were human did you?” Cordelia asked sarcastically. “My back is going to kill me after this.” 

“Suck it up, Your Highness. Think of it as an exercise. It’ll build up those puny muscles,” Spike suggested. 

The staircase wouldn’t allow someone to take the middle, so Spike took the top while Wesley and a miffed Cordelia hefted at the bottom. 

“Very funny, Spike. I have a stake in my desk with your name written all over it,” Cordelia smirked. 

A scarred brow shot up. “Are you flirting with me, Miss Chase?” 

“In your dreams,” she grumbled. 

“Oh, my dreams are quite vivid with clear details,” Spike said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Wanna know a few?” 

“Eww, gross,” Cordelia said with an exaggerated shudder. 

“Put your back into it, Percy,” Spike said aloud as he dragged the base up the flight of stairs. 

“I’d like to have full use of my back when this is over, thank you,” Wesley stated. 

“A bunch of pansy-ass humans, I swear,” Spike grumbled as he hauled the tub base up another step. 

“What was that?” Cordelia demanded. 

“Nothing, princess. You’re as pretty as the day is long,” Spike lied blatantly. That earned him a look of disbelief. 

When they finally got the tub base up the first flight of stairs and took a rest, Cordelia looked around. “So, that is half way there? Never thought secretarial work meant backbreaking labor. They have unions for this sort of thing, maybe we should join one?” 

“Yes, and then you can claim a broken nail for hazard pay,” Spike said glibly. 

Cordelia tossed her ponytail when she looked at him inquisitively. “Do you think I can really do that?” 

Spike scoffed at the idea. 

Wesley sighed. “Well, I for one think getting professionals would have been the best idea.” 

“I wanted this to be a bonding experience,” Angel said as he walked up the stairs behind Wesley with Fred. They were carrying the accessories. 

“I think some ligaments in my back are fusing together just fine, thanks,” Cordelia said. 

Spike turned towards Angel and gave him a calculating look. “You know, if there was a good time to be hit by a crossbow, you got it. Are those Powers That Be looking out for you or your back, hmm?” 

Fred squealed when an idea hit her. The sound echoed through the hotel and caused the other members of the team to cover their ears. 

“Sorry,” she apologized with a small smile. “But look, there’s no need to lug the tub itself up the stairs. I’m sure it will fit in the elevator. I could ride with it and meet you on the third floor.” 

Wesley turned with a wide smile at the small Texan. “It would save our backs.” 

With that agreed upon, Angel handed the accessories to Cordelia and went back downstairs with Fred to haul the lightweight fiberglass tub into the rigged elevator. Then, he went upstairs ahead of the others to wait for her. Once the tub and base were on the same floor, the team decided they’d done enough for one night and went their separate ways to get some rest. Wesley and Cordelia decided to stay the night and each took a room. 

While Cordelia and Wesley were selecting their rooms, Angel and Spike entered their own. They looked longingly at the bathroom with the luxury shower that would ease all their aches and pains, but opted for the bed. Each had shed his clothes and slid stiffly into bed, pulling the covers up. Spike automatically reached out as Angel shifted towards the smaller body. Both knew Angel would be healed by morning, but tonight was for comfort. They needed it after the events at Caritas. 

They could have lost each other tonight if Gio hadn’t been a suck shot or if Angel hadn’t been quick with his own reflexes. In the end, Angel had been injured with an arrow through the shoulder and they both had various injuries from the fight that ensued after. 

Spike had been frantic about Fred and Angel. Fred had quickly filled up a place in Spike’s heart. The place reserved for those he cared about and _wanted_ to take care of. Fred and Drusilla shared that place. Fred was like a little sister and Spike was near obsessive with those he chose to care for. 

Cordelia was a friend, as much as anyone like Cordelia could be with a soulless demon like Spike. They bantered back and forth and Angel thought it was a little childish. But, it worked out. 

Wesley was great for exchanging English anecdotes and just plain riling the former watcher to get a reaction. Wesley came across as too uptight for his own good. But, that all changed once you got a few shots from a bottle of Angel’s precious fifteen-year-old Jameson Irish whiskey. A few glasses of that and good old Wesley loosened up and was actually fun to be around in a dry sort of way. 

Recent prickliness aside, Gunn was a good bloke as well. Spike had trained and sparred with the vampire hunter a few times. Gunn had his back in a few fights and Spike had returned the favor and saved him on a couple of cases. Generally, Spike didn’t have a problem with Gunn. But then, the human had put Fred and Cordelia in harm’s way tonight. Spike’s threat to Gunn wasn’t an empty one. If the girls were ever in a situation similar to tonight, the blonde vampire would end the hunter without blinking. 

Shaking his head free of thought, he heard the soft sound of Angel purring in his sleep. It was barely audible, but Spike could hear it now that he wasn’t so distracted. He snuggled deeper under the covers and fell into a healing sleep. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Two Days Later_**

Angel was for the most part, healed. Though, he moved around stiffly. The group, including Gunn, was working on Fred’s tub. The two vampires had received more injuries due to the home improvement process, adding to the healing aches from the showdown in Caritas. The team worked together to install the tub with light banter to pass the time. It was easier to install than the Jacuzzi shower had been. 

Gunn had come back the day before after a small break to clear his head. He easily slipped back into his team role, working alongside two vampires with no serious problems. The disagreement with Wesley outside the club seemed to be forgotten as Gunn joked with the former watcher. Spike and Angel were vigilant as the vampire hunter teased Fred and Cordelia good-naturedly. 

Angel felt the bonding click of the team that he was hoping for. Soon, they’d have the tub finished and maybe shift this teamwork to a better working relationship while on cases. Angel was content. Spike was with them and seemed to have blended with the team nicely. The dark vampire felt ready for anything life or Wolfram  & Hart threw his way.


	7. Chapter 37-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

 

##  _Chapter 37-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 4)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia flipped through a magazine while Wesley read one of his ancient books and Gunn played with a Gameboy. That was how Fred found them when she came down the stairs. It was boring in her room and with no sign of Angel or Spike yet tonight, she decided to venture downstairs. She made her way down the stairs and over to the round settee. Cordelia jumped and let out a scream as Fred leaned closer to look at the magazine. Wesley jumped at the sound and looked at them, confused. 

“Hey Fred,” Gunn said in greeting. He didn’t bother to look up from his game. 

“Sorry!” she apologized. “Did I startle you guys?” 

“No,” Wesley smiled genuinely. 

“Only in the sense of shocking and jolting us,” Cordelia replied sardonically. “What’s up?” 

“Nothing. Just taking a little stroll and . . .” Fred looked horrified at the magazine. “Why would girls want to look like that? I spent years in a cave starving. What’s their excuse?” 

“Fashion,” Cordelia quipped. 

A laugh bubbled up inside Fred. She stopped, sat down beside Cordelia and looked around the lobby. ‘So, everybody’s just reading and hanging out?” 

“Angel’s upstairs,” Cordelia said casually. Fred always asked about Angel when he wasn’t around. 

“Oh. He’s probably reading, too,” Fred said, stars twinkling in her eyes. There was a lovesick expression on her face. “He’s so deep, you know? Thoughtful. I’m guessing **_The Brothers Karamazov_** , Joyce, a little Goethe to round things out.” 

“And here I was thinking he would be more interested in Spike’s anatomy,” Cordelia commented dryly. 

The vampire in question appeared at the top of the stairs overlooking the lobby, a newspaper in his hands. 

“Am I the only one who read this?” Angel asked excitedly. 

“Read what?” Wesley inquired with a sense of disinterest. 

“Charlton Heston! Double feature!” Angel nearly squealed as he galloped down the stairs. “At the Nu-Art. **_Soylent Green_** and **_The Omega Man_**!” 

“Wow,” Gunn said blandly, his eyes still on his game. 

“It’s two for one,” Angel said eagerly. “Did I mention: Charlton Heston? Who’s in?” 

“What happened to Spike being attached at the hip?” Cordelia asked mockingly. “Aren’t you forcing him to go?” 

“I’m not going to the soddin’ movies to watch something boring,” Spike replied as he swaggered down the stairs. He sat down on the couch near the wall. 

Fred jumped up and raised her hand. “That sounds great!” 

“Fred,” Angel said delighted. “Wesley?” 

“I’m in the middle of translating **_Fassad’s Guide_** from the original Sumerian,” Wesley replied. 

Gunn? Cordy?” Angel looked expectantly between them. They didn’t even look at him. He shrugged as he retrieved his coat. “It looks like it’s just you and me, Fred.” He shrugged his coat on. “Well, the worm certainly has turned.” 

Fred giggled. “Y-y-yeah, the worm’s turning and . . .” She suddenly looked uncertain. “Am I the worm?” 

“No,” he assured her. “You may not know this, Fred, but certain lovers, friends and co-workers have been known to accuse _me_ of being the quiet, stay at home, sulky one.” Four sets of eyes stared at him. Spike scoffed at his Sire. “Some people just don’t know how to have fun anymore.” 

“We can go back upstairs and I’ll show you a spot of fun,” Spike offered as he flipped through a _Motor Trend_ magazine. 

“Geez, Spike,” Cordelia cringed. 

“Wot?” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Elondria Hotel_**

A young man was in bed with two girls. 

“Can we take a breather, stud?” the first girl asked. 

“If you need one,” he smirked and turned to the other girl. 

“Hey tiger, me too,” she said. “Just for a minute.” 

The guy climbed out of bed with a sigh and poured himself a martini. 

“Pace yourself, sweetheart,” the first girl teased. 

He turned to admire his body in the full-length mirror. “Mm, it’s good to be young.” He walked back towards the bed. “So, ready for round four?” Suddenly, he hunched over in pain. 

“You okay, baby?” the second girl asked, concerned. 

“Oh,” he moaned. “It’s been fun.” Then, he started chanting, “Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota.” 

A stream of red and white energy issued forth from his eyes and mouth. The stream stopped and the young man turned to look at the girls watching wide-eyed from the bed. They screamed as he began to steam and his body deflated into a puddle of skin on the ground. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Five Hours Later_**

Wesley sat at his desk working on translating his book with half an ear to Fred’s chatter about her trip to the movies with Angel. 

“. . . And he opened every door for me and he paid for the tickets. And even bought a giant popcorn. And every few minutes he'd go like this,” she motioned like she was tipping a tub of popcorn towards someone and laughed. “Because he wanted me to know it was okay for me to have some.” She dropped into a chair, exhausting herself out by her own speech. “And he's so lonely because he's the last man on earth.” 

Wesley glanced up from his book. “Angel?” 

“No!” Fred said incredulously. “Charlton Heston. **_The Omega Man_**? Omega being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, so it’s a metaphor.” She jumped up excitedly. “And he walks on the street side, not the building side. It’s old fashioned and kind of chivalrous, you know?” 

Wesley raised a brow. “We’re back to talking about Angel?” 

“Right,” she agreed. “And even though he didn’t talk a lot, it was still okay. It was comfortable. It wasn’t that awkward kind of quiet. You know _that_ awkward kind of quiet?” 

There was a moment of awkward silence before Wesley said irreverently, “No. That’s never happened to me.” 

Angel sat in the lobby reading the paper. Spike stood a few feet away, leaned against the reception desk going through a weapons mail order magazine with Gunn. Angel used the opportunity to surreptitiously stare at his mate’s backside over the edge of the newspaper _without_ seeming like he was ogling the tightest ass he’d ever seen. 

“You need to talk to Fred,” Cordelia demanded as she stalked towards him. 

Angel looked guilty for a moment, thinking Cordelia had caught him watching Spike instead of reading the paper. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What about?” 

“About the big date you guys just had!” Cordelia said irritated. 

“Whoa! Date?” Angel raised a brow. “It was just a movie.” 

“That’s what you need to tell _her_. She’s in there going on and on about what a super time you guys had!” she ranted. 

Angel leaned over to get a view of Fred waving her hands animatedly and talking to an unimpressed Wesley. He shrugged and went back to the paper. “She’s just enthusiastic. Don’t read too much into it.” 

Cordelia pushed his feet off the footstool and sat down. “She’s got the big puppy love. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re handsome and brave and heroic, emotionally stunted, erratic, prone to turning evil and, let’s face it, a eunuch.” 

Spike and Gunn huddled together over the magazine, snickering at Cordelia’s description. 

“I think someone’s jealous,” Spike chuckled which made Gunn laugh even more. 

“I’m not jealous!” Cordelia said indignantly. 

“I’m not a eunuch! I fuck Spike all the time!” Angel insisted. 

“Way too much information for my ears, man,” Gunn said. 

“Angel, it’s a figure of speech,” Cordelia said. 

“Find a better one!” Angel growled which caused Spike to convulse into a laughing fit. Angel wadded up a page of newsprint and threw it at his head. 

“I just mean that sex is a no-no for you,” Cordelia explained. “Because of the whole ‘if you know perfect bliss, you’ll turn evil’ curse.” She eyed him speculatively. “Really no cure for that, huh?” 

“Hey!” Angel and Spike yelled. 

“Listen, all I’m trying to tell you is, this thing with Fred, it’s going to go bad unless it’s nipped in the bud,” she said. 

“Leave her be, Cordy. Let her have some fun. Nothing wrong with a little crush,” Spike said. 

“Have you seen **_Fatal Attraction_**?” Cordelia retorted. 

“Okay, okay.” Angel held his hands up in surrender. “Maybe a short talk.” He raised the newspaper again, hiding behind it as he asked, “So how soon can you do that?” 

Cordelia stood up and snatched the paper from Angel’s hands. “Nice try, buster. It’s got to come from you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up out of the chair and into Wesley’s office. “Angel has something to say.” 

The vampire nervously looked from Fred, who smiled brilliantly at him, to Wesley. As a distraction, he held up the newspaper. 

“Did anybody else see this?” he asked, laying the paper down in front of the former watcher. “Police found the body of a twenty-six year old Woodrow Raglan in a two-bedroom suite at the Elondria Hotel. An unnamed witness said it was as if his inside had just . . .” 

“. . . Collapsed,” Wesley finished as he searched for something. “You know, there was something else like that last week.” 

Cordelia raised a hand. “Um, may I just point out that no one is actually hiring us to look into this and that we should be doing more important things?” 

“Aha!” Wesley held up a newspaper clipping. “Ten days ago, a body was found in another hotel room under similar conditions.” 

“What do you think?” Angel inquired anxiously. “A spell, a curse . . . serial demon? I’ll take a demon.” 

“Tough to say,” Wesley shrugged. “It’s worth a closer look.” 

“I’ll say it then. Cordelia, open a case file. We have to get on this right away!” Angel handed a file folder to her with the newspaper clipping and walked past her out of the room. 

“Angel!” she yelled, hurrying after him. “You can’t ignore this.” 

“I’m not! That’s why I’m heading out now. Early bird catches the worm and all,” Angel called over his shoulder as he grabbed a weapon. 

Cordelia took a printout and joined the rest of the team at the reception desk. Angel was checking out the weapons, judging which was best to kill a possessing demon. Spike and Gunn were still in the same spot as before. Fred sat between Wesley and Gunn. Wesley had collected news reports with similar modus operandi as the victim in the hotel. 

“There was a third victim five weeks ago. From the looks of it, they were all young, healthy males. They all died in expensive hotel suites,” Wesley said. 

“Can you imagine shelling out all that money for a snazzy suite and then . . . kerplop . . . you’re a big bag of mush bones?” Fred asked in general then thought about it. “I guess it wouldn’t be good wherever that happened.” Wesley just looked at her. “Oh, please continue.” 

“Gunn, I was thinking you could interview the staff of the hotels where the guys died,” Wesley suggested. He looked at his watch. “I’m meeting a contact of mine from the coroner’s office in thirty minutes. See, what I can learn about these bodies.” 

“They were all members of the same health club,” Cordelia announced. “The bodies, I mean – when they weren’t, you know, dead ones.” 

Angel walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the printout. He pulled out his car keys. “Cordy and I’ll go check out the gym.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Wesley agreed. 

Cordelia snatched the keys out of Angel’s hand and walked away. “I’ll drive.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Gunn asked. 

“Everyone know what they’re doing?” Wesley asked. 

“Haven’t a bloody clue, mate,” Spike quipped. 

“Good,” Wesley nodded. 

The team left, except from Fred who remained at the reception desk and Spike perusing a magazine. He focused on the reports of the dead men. 

“I’ll just stay here and keep Spike company,” she said to the empty room, then laughed at herself. She went over and sat down at the computer. After a few minutes of pecking at the keyboard, she asked, “Spike? What’s Angel like?” 

“Broody and overbearing,” Spike said casually, still reading the last report. 

Fred looked skeptical at his bent head. “I never found him broody or overbearing. He’s big and strong, makes a girl feel safe and protected. You must feel much loved when he’s around.” 

“Look luv, I am _not_ a girl,” Spike said, stating the obvious. “I don’t need someone to protect me. We fight side by side, killing the big nasties together. That is what he needs, an equal.” 

“I will never be that,” Fred said sadly, looking down at the desk. She fidgeted. “I mean you are heroes, helping the hopeless or whatever and I’m just a girl.” 

Spike looked up at the tone in her voice. Putting the reports down, he walked around behind the desk and crouch down in front of her. “Hey, you’re heroic. You survived five years in a demon dimension, on your wits.” He reached out to stroke her hair. “You’re intelligent and beautiful and heroic yourself.” 

A deep blush colored Fred’s face at the compliments. “I’m not beautiful. Cordy’s beautiful. She’s a princess and I’m nothing like that.” 

“Here now, I don’t want to hear you say that, pet. You have good, strong qualities. You’re a survivor just like the rest of us. In my book, that’s worth more than just a pretty face.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Health Spa & Gym_**

“You can’t just keep ignoring Fred!” Cordelia said as she walked into the health spa with Angel. “You have to speak to her. You know, there is your business life and then there is your social life, and everybody knows that you keep those two things sepa . . .” 

She trailed off as one of the buff male members walked by. “I’m going to go see if _he_ knows anything.” 

As Cordelia walked away, Angel spotted a health club attendant and walked over to him. 

“Hi. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions. My name is Angel.” 

The man shook his hand and tried to deal him a sales-pitch. “Angel. Good news, dude. We’re running our best offer ever! Okay, I can get you a six month trial membership right now for three hundred and fifty dollars.” 

“No thanks. I’m looking into some guys that were members here,” Angel explained, pulling out a newspaper clipping and showed it to the attendant. 

“Oh yeah,” the man nodded. “Woody. I heard he like . . . died.” 

“He like . . . did. Along with others, all were members. So, I need to ask you, does the club condone steroid use?” 

“No. No, no, no, a-a-absolutely not!” he insisted. 

Angel nodded. “Then we should probably keep this between ourselves, don’t you think?” The attendant nodded. “I’ll just take a look at their records and I’ll get out of your hair.” 

The attendant thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He turned and led Angel back to the office. They passed Cordelia talking to two guys. The attendant handed Angel a folder labeled with Woody’s name. 

“You know, I-I-I don’t see anything that connects the three of them,” the attendant said as he looked through another folder. “Except they were all in the evening Pilates class together.” 

Angel looked up from his perusal. “Pilates, is that like Tae-Bo?” 

The attendant laughed, “Yeah, if you’re living in 1999.” 

The man showed Angel to a room. He walked in where a group of people were participating in an exercise class. Angel circled the room, stopping at the windows at the back of the room. Something caught his attention. A light reflected off a pair of circles in one of the windows of the building across the street. Even from a distance, Angel’s enhanced eyesight caught the sign in front of the adjacent building: Monserrat Retirement Community. 

Cordelia was talking to four guys when Angel walked up behind her and leaned in close to her ear. 

“There is a retirement home on the street behind us,” he whispered. “I’m going to check something out.” 

“Bye!” she said agitated. 

Angel glanced at the four men and started to leave, but turned back to Cordelia. “Maybe when you’re done with _your work_ here, you can pick me up. Okay?” 

When he left, she smiled apologetically to the four young men. “He’s just someone I work with. Anyway . . .” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home_**

Angel looked up at the window of the retirement home where he last saw the reflection. He walked into the building, nodding to a few orderlies until he stopped at room 316. The nameplate read: Marcus Roscoe. He rapped his knuckles on the wood panel. An old man wearing big, round glasses slowly opened the door. 

“Mr. Roscoe? My name is Angel,” Angel said as he handed him one of his business cards. 

Marcus held up the card and squinted at it, reading, “Angel Investigations.” 

“Would it be all right if I came inside and asked you a few questions?” 

“Well, it’s ah, pretty late,” Marcus said uncertainly. 

“It shouldn’t take long,” Angel assured him. 

Marcus shrugged and walked back into his room, leaving the door open. Angel shifted uncomfortably but remained outside the door. Marcus looked back at him curiously and motioned him in. 

“Come on if you’re coming.” 

Angel carefully stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. He looked around as he walked around, ending up at the window. 

“Nice to have a view,” Angel commented. “I bet you, ah, spend a lot of time enjoying it.” 

“Not that much . . .” Marcus started to say when Angel held up a pair of binoculars he found on the window sill. “Uh, well, I don’t see any harm in looking. That’s about all I can do anymore. Uh, what is it you want?” 

“Your help,” Angel replied, replacing the binoculars and pulling out some news clippings. “I wonder if you’ve seen either of these men across the way in the gym.” 

Marcus flipped through them before saying, “No. I don’t think so. I’m more of a girl watcher if you know what I’m saying? Jeez. They all died? How?” 

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Angel said. 

“You work for the police?” Marcus asked. 

“I’m a private investigator. I work with a team.” 

“Hmm, sounds nice,” Marcus said. “I was a salesman. I worked alone for fifty years.” 

Angel gave an acknowledging noise when he spotted a shelf holding various pottery items. “Nothian herb jar?” He picked it up to examine it. “That’s a pretty exotic item. Did you, uh, deal in the occult?” 

“Occult schmuccult,” Marcus scoffed. “I traveled a lot, picked up some trinkets.” 

Angel put the jar down and glanced at the coffee table. He noticed some extreme sports magazines scattered along the surface. He went over, picked up a magazine and leafed through it. 

“Do a lot of bungee jumping, Mr. Roscoe?” 

“More than you might think, Mr. Angel.” 

“It’s just Angel,” the vampire clarified. 

Marcus removed his glasses and put them in the breast pocket of his shirt. Then, he took a couple of steps closer to Angel. “I’ll remember that.” Looking squarely at the man in front of him, Marcus started reciting an incantation. “Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota.” 

Angel chuckled humorlessly. “You might want to think twice about trying to cast a sp . . .” 

Suddenly, a red-and-white light flowed from Marcus into Angel while a blue-and-white light flowed from Angel to Marcus. When the light disappeared, [Angel] looked around and shrugged his shoulders, becoming accustomed to the new body. [Marcus] stared at him, his eyes squinted. 

“You _are_ me,” [Marcus] said, mystified. 

[Angel] grabbed [Marcus] by the shoulders and head-butted him to knock him out for a while. He lowered the unconscious old man into a chair. 

“That’s gonna smart later,” [Angel] said to himself. 

A little while later, [Angel] walked out the front gate of the Moserrat Retirement Home and started to saunter down the sidewalk. He was brought up short with a feminine voice. 

“Uh, hello!” Cordelia said irritated. 

[Angel] turned and saw a gorgeous, dark haired woman in a convertible parked near the sidewalk. He chuckled as he walked over and leaned on the top of the windshield. 

“He-llo,” [Angel] said in a flirting manner. 

“So, what did you find at the old folks home?” Cordelia asked. 

“Uh,” [Angel] shrugged. “Nothing, it didn’t pan out. How about you?” 

“I got a two month free trial membership, and I made some new friends . . .” she said optimistically. When [Angel] just stared at her, she deflated. “All right, I got nothing.” 

“Well, it’s pretty clear we’re barking up the wrong tree here, huh?” 

Cordelia gave [Angel] an odd look. He was acting stranger than usual. “Yeah, well, get in. I’ll take you back to the hotel.” 

Angel acted even weirder when he grinned at her as he got in the car and put his arm on the back of her seat. Angel and Spike were flirtatious to a fault, but they’ve been solidly together for nearly three years now. Not even a spatula could wiggle between them. So, why was [Angel] like this? 

“All right! You and me are going back to the hotel, nice huh?” [Angel] said. 

“Are you all right?” Cordelia asked. 

“Honey, I’ve never been better,” [Angel] assured her. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

[Angel] followed Cordelia into the lobby of the Hyperion. 

Spike was in Wesley’s office going through the reports of the dead bodies. Fred had gone back upstairs to her room an hour ago. Wesley had called in to leave a progress report, as well as Gunn. He got up with a clipping still in his hand and walked out of the office to see who came back. 

“Nice!” [Angel] commented. When she walked around the reception desk to meet up with Spike, he asked, “Are you supposed to be back there?” He leaned on the desk and hit the bell a couple of times, whistling. “Slow night huh?” 

“Yeah, Ange,” Spike said, looking up from the paper to address Cordy, “You didn’t happen to run into Wes or Gunn on the way back?” 

“Nope, but maybe they had better luck than we did,” Cordelia said. 

“Wes or Gunn,” [Angel] said to himself. He noticed the display of Angel Investigations business cards on the counter. There were some with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, some with Charles Gunn, some with Cordelia Chase, Senior Associate and others with Spike, Freelance Specialist on them. 

“They’re a great part of our investigating team,” [Angel] said quietly. “And they work with us in this old abandoned hotel.” He picked up one of Cordelia’s cards. “Cor _delia_ . . .” She looked over at him and was rewarded with a smirk. “Have I ever told you that you are a _very beautiful woman_?” 

Cordelia returned to sorting through papers on her desk looking for something to help Spike’s research. “Ha, ha, very funny. I know you never said anything that tacky or overt to Fred. But, you’re still going to have that talk, whether you want to or not.” She handed a page to Spike and walked around the counter to confront [Angel] about the Fred situation. 

“Talk . . . with Fred,” [Angel] repeated, sounding lost. 

“Yes! Just keep it simple,” Cordelia suggested. “One: you’re not like other men. Two: there is no room in the workplace for romance.” 

“Romance . . . with Fred,” [Angel] repeated, sounding even more confused. “So, I’m a . . .” he looked down at his clothing style as if that could explain anything and apparently it did. “Obviously.” 

Cordelia grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Get some rest. See you tomorrow.” 

Spike was still looking at his Sire as if he had grown two heads when it sank in that Cordelia was leaving. He put the papers down and rushed after her, catching her at the door. 

“Hey, what the hell went on out there?” Spike hissed softly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was fine when you left. Now, he’s all . . .” Spike twirled his finger around his temple. “Did you guys run into something that knocked him for a loop?” 

“He seems a little . . . spacey, but I thought that was just an Angel trait,” Cordelia looked back at [Angel] perusing the papers Spike had abandoned. She shrugged and walked out the door, saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Spike.” 

Spike watched her leave then looked back at [Angel]. His Sire’s broad back was to him. The demon behind the desk looked like his Sire and smelled like his Sire, but something was off. The uneasiness in his blood made his skin itch. Not having to dust a Sire before, he couldn’t place the feeling. 

“So, you gonna talk to Fred about this crush? ’Cause, you know how well you handle emotional things like that,” Spike asked. 

“Huh?” [Angel] said, looking up. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’ll do it later.” 

Spike walked back to the reception desk. There was still an unsettling feeling. The Sire he knew would have been on him the second Cordelia walked out. This version barely looked his way when the door closed. 

“Angel, you sure you’re all right, mate?” Spike looked at him, his brow furrowed in concern. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Just working on this case here,” [Angel] said, holding up the pages. 

“Huh,” Spike said slowly. “Anything from your investigation of the premises helping, you know, out in the field and all that?” 

“Yeah, went to that gym and thought I saw something at the place next door, but didn’t turn into anything useful,” [Angel] said. 

Spike felt strange, similar to the feeling one gets when they bite into ice with sensitive teeth. He still felt mated, just not to the thing standing in front of him. The demon was there, still connected to him. But the personality was nonexistent. Spike sniffed the air. There was a soul detectible, but not that of his Angel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home_**

[Marcus] woke up in his chair with a headache. He groaned as he looked around. He tried to get up, but didn’t make it. After a few more tries, he put his hands on the arms of the chair and levered himself to his feet. He walked over to look in the mirror but only saw a blurry shape of a man. Putting on his glasses, [Marcus] watched his reflection become clearer. He opened his door and quietly snuck out of his room. He crept through the lobby to the receptionist desk. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number to the Hyperion. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Spike had excused himself and left the room. Only he didn’t go farther than the kitchen in lieu of getting a glass of blood. 

[Angel] leaned back in Wesley’s chair behind the desk in the manager’s office, looking through papers. The phone rang, but he let the answering machine get it. Cordelia’s voice echoed through the lobby and then a beep. 

“Cordelia? Are you there? Spike? Pick up!” an elderly man’s voice demanded. 

[Angel] hurried to pick up the phone. “Hey Angel, how’s my head? Hope you got some ice on it. Sweet deal you’ve got going on here, pal. Love the hotel. And Cordelia – whoa! That’s how I spell w-o-m-a-n!” 

“Where is she?” [Marcus] demanded angrily. 

Spike quietly moved back to the doorway, staying just out of sight of the thing possessing his Sire and listened to the conversation. 

“You don’t have to worry about anything except eating some nice soft foods and staying out of Ryan’s way,” [Angel] said mockingly. 

Spike’s eyes widened when he guessed what had happened. His Angel went to the nursing home and some old warlock did a spell to switch places. That’s why the human bodies resembled a puddle of skin. This guy was working a mojo on the patrons of the gym across the street and using their bodies up to gain some extra time on his life. And now he had Angel’s body and life. Angel’s _eternal_ existence! 

There was still a few hours of darkness left. Spike decided to make the most of it and go out to see if he could get to Angel and find out exactly what happened. He cautiously moved toward the back entrance to the hotel and slipped out unnoticed. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home_**

“Ryan?” [Marcus] sounded confused as an orderly took the phone from him. 

“You wouldn’t think that we just talked about this!” Ryan said irritably as he hung up the phone. “There go your phone privileges for the rest of the month.” 

Ryan put his hand on [Marcus’s] shoulder and walked him back to his room. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be out of your room at this hour,” Ryan admonished. 

“I was stretching my legs,” [Marcus] lied. 

Ryan put a hand over his name tag and asked, “Who am I?” 

“You’re Ryan.” 

He chuckled. “At least you’re not having an episode. My advice, Marcus: if you start thinking you’re a twenty-four-year-old stud or a famous skateboarder, keep it to yourself. Unless you _wanna_ wake up in isolation restraints again, copy?” 

[Marcus] pointed to himself. “I know who _I_ am.” 

“Then let’s get _you_ back to beddy-bye.” 

A few feet away, Spike picked the lock and snuck into the home through a back door. He quietly made his way down the hall and around the corner just in time to see Ryan walking [Marcus] back to his room. Staying at a safe distance, he followed the two men. He watched [Marcus] go into his room and Ryan leave. 

Spike waited until the coast was clear before he knocked on the door he’d see the old man pass through. It was labeled Marcus Roscoe. A few seconds later, the door opened a crack and the elderly man peeked out. 

“Marcus Roscoe?” Spike inquired. 

Suddenly, the door opened wider and Spike found himself with [Marcus] plastered against his body. 

“Angel, you might wanna get off me!” Spike said. Arms tightened around him with the strength of a human and not that of his Sire. “You’re humping my leg here. Get off me.” 

“Sorry,” [Marcus] said gruffly, releasing the blonde vampire and stepping back. 

“Gonna invite me in, pet or do you want to talk out here?” Spike raised an inquisitive brow. 

[Marcus] grabbed his hand, tugged him inside the room and shut the door. Spike watched with interest as the elderly body Angel currently inhabited made its way to a chair very slowly. He knew his Sire wanted to be human and all, but was _this_ really what he wanted to become when he finally fulfilled that prophecy? 

Watching [Marcus] slowly sit in the chair, Spike asked, “Angel, what the hell happened to you?” 

“The real Marcus was the one using all those men. He would watch them with the binoculars over there,” [Marcus] gestured towards the window, “and then do some kind of transference spell.” 

“So, how does the human life suit you? Still want to be one?” Spike teased. “Bet you’re missing the great aspects of being a vampire now, hmm?” 

“Spike, stop it. You made your point.” 

[Marcus] cringed at the thought of what the warlock could be doing with his body. When they transferred, he was still Angel in a different body. That meant . . . his demon was still in his own body and a warlock resided in it. What if he did something to trigger Angelus’ panic snap? 

What if the real Marcus wasn’t able to control Angelus? If the demon got out and was in control of his body, he could destroy the team. There was no doubt about it. Angelus would do it in a minute just for the pleasure of seeing what would hurt Angel the most. Even if he hadn’t extracted a promise from Angelus to take care of Spike, the blonde vampire could handle himself. What about the others? 

“Think of the damage that he could do in my body. What he could do to the team? We have to get me back in my own body, Spike.” 

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s already doing damage. It’s like watching a hound dog going after every woman in sight,” Spike said. 

[Marcus’s] eyes widened. “Cordelia and Fred! They aren’t safe. We have to fix this.” 

“I think Fred is in the most danger. Cordelia would just hit him over the head with one of Wesley’s books.” Spike chuckled at that image in his head. “I need to get back to protect Fred and see what I can do to get you back.” 

“You’re right,” [Marcus] agreed. “There’s no telling what he will do to Fred if he thinks she has a crush on me.” 

“Yeah, Cordelia’s getting pushy about that talk you’re supposed to have with Fred.” Spike held his hand up. “Leave him to me. If you get your body back with a few bruises then he hurt Fred.” 

“That I can deal with, just as long as it hurt him more at the time,” [Marcus] said. Then, he looked at Spike intently, or what he hoped was intent. “In fact, Spike, hurt him.” 

Spike nodded and left as quietly as he arrived. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia walked into Wesley’s office to find [Angel] asleep, slumped over the top of the desk with papers littering the whole room. 

“Angel!” Cordelia exclaimed at the sight of the disaster. 

[Angel’s] head jerked up at the sound. The paper he slept on was still stuck to his face. 

“What happened?” Cordelia asked looking around the room shocked. 

[Angel] pulled the paper off his face and took a quick glance around. “Uh . . . hey, doll. I, ah,” He stumbled over his words as he put some papers in an open file. “I was working on the case. I must have dozed off.” 

“You were too tired to go up to your room?” Cordelia asked with a raised brow. 

My room! Right! Which I have _upstairs_. Well, you know me: always giving a hundred percent.” He got to his feet and looked through the mess. “Now, what did I do with the damn case file . . .” 

Cordelia looked at him strangely. “You gave it to me yesterday.” 

“Ha! Must be getting old,” [Angel] gave her a lopsided grin. He reached for the folder but Cordelia dodged his hand and put it behind her back. 

“Not until you have that talk with Fred,” she insisted. 

Just then, Wesley walked in carrying an old English teapot. “You know there is something about brewed tea that you simply cannot replicate with a bag.” He stopped short when he saw the mess. “What happened here?” 

[Angel] started shuffling papers together. “I was just looking for something. Uh, I’ll clean it up!” 

“Don’t avoid the talk,” Cordelia said as she walked out of the room. 

“I know. I know,” [Angel] said to himself as he walked around the desk, picking up papers and looking over the mess. “Hey. How’re you doing?” 

“All right,” Wesley drawled. “Well . . . – you?” 

[Angel] pulled up a chair on the other side of Wesley’s desk and sat down. “So, we gotta talk. The thing is: I’ve got nothing against you personally. It’s just . . .” 

Wesley looked up to stare at [Angel] who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The vampire avoided eye contact with him. “O-ho, this is going to be harder than I-I thought. I just don’t know how to spit this out.” 

Wesley walked around the desk and perched on its edge facing [Angel]. “Angel, whatever it is, you know I’m here for you.” He stretched a hand towards him, but the vampire hurriedly scooted his chair back. 

“Yeah, that may be the problem,” [Angel] chuckled uncomfortably. “I mean, whatever we . . . had – whatever we . . . did. I just think that we should keep that behind us and start from scratch. You know, two men working side by side. But, none of that . . . funny stuff.” 

Wesley frowned as he stood up. Something didn’t sound right about this conversation. Before, he could analyze it, [Angel] offered his hand. 

“Shake on that?” 

Wesley stared at him for a moment. “I guess.” He took [Angel’s] hand and received a hearty shake. 

“Hey, all right. Give me a hug.” With that, [Angel] pulled a flabbergasted Wesley into a big hug with half the strength [Angel] would normally use. 

“Wesley, food’s here,” Cordelia called from the lobby. 

“Okay,” Wesley answered, still bound in the hug. 

[Angel] jerked back from him, holding him at arms length. “Wesley?” 

“Yes?” Wesley said, still surprised by the hug. 

“Do you know where Fred is?” 

“Um, up in her room I’d expect,” Wesley replied. 

“ _Her_ room, right,” [Angel] nodded. Then, he was distracted by the smell of food. “Somebody say something about food? I could eat a horse.” He turned and walked out of the office. 

Gunn stood in front of the counter with a carton of cups and fast food. 

“Breakfast burritos all around,” he announced. 

[Angel] grabbed one of the burritos and stuck some money into the breast pocket of Gunn’s jacket. “Thanks, bro. Keep the change on that.” 

“ _Okay_ ,” Gunn replied, clueless. 

Wesley had pulled Cordelia aside and was talking with her. “Where is Spike? Angel is a bit huggy-feely for my liking. Totally out of context . . . and really, not his brooding self.” 

“Oh you think?” Cordelia replied sardonically. Then, she thought about it for a moment. “Oh no . . . he’s not Angelus, again?” 

Wesley shook his head. “Oh, no, he’s just emotional. Angelus would be playing mind games and undermining us by now. This is something different.” 

They broke a part, and not two seconds later, Gunn pulled her aside. “Where’s Spike? Angel’s been acting really weird.” He reached into his coat pocket for the money [Angel] had given him. “He tipped me with a c-note.” 

“So, both of you have notice something off about him?” Cordelia whispered back. “I don’t like this.” 

“Did you find anything, Gunn?” Wesley asked as a distraction. 

[Angel] sat at his little folding desk munching on the burrito as he looked over at Gunn and Wesley. 

“Yeah, I did. All these guys ran up huge service bills, mostly alcohol. Well, at least they went out partying. Oh, and I got copies of their telephone bills too,” Gunn reported. 

“Hey, isn’t that illegal?” [Angel] asked with his mouth full. “I mean, don’t these guys deserve a little privacy?” 

They all turned to stare at [Angel]. The vampire always committed shady acts to get the job done. 

“What?” [Angel] asked confused as to why they were staring at him. 

“Why are you eating?” Cordelia asked. 

“I’m hungry,” [Angel] replied simply. 

“Looks like they called the same number,” Wesley said, looking over the sheet of phone numbers. 

“Yeah, saw that too,” Gunn said. He pulled out a paper and handed it to Wesley. “Check it out: First Class Escorts, La Brea and Sixth.” 

That peaked [Angel’s] interest. He got up and moved over to the counter beside Wesley. 

“Escorts? Oh, you mean hookers?” Cordelia surmised. 

Gunn took the paper out of Wesley’s hand. “I should probably interview them right away while the trail is hot.” 

Wesley snatched the paper back. “Ah, I’ll take this one. You interview the hotel staff. It’s only fair if we divvy it up.” 

Gunn took the paper back. “Yeah, but I figured it out.” 

Cordelia grabbed the paper out of Gunn’s hand. “I’ll interview the hookers. Are there any men who aren’t just dogs?” 

“Not very many, I’m afraid,” [Angel] replied. He leaned in close to Wesley. “You know a woman is more than a piece of meat. I’m sorry, that’s just how I feel.” 

Just then, Wesley’s beeper went off and he checked the display. “Ah, that’s my contact at the coroner. I can see one of the bodies. I should go.” 

“Gunn can go with you,” Cordelia offered. 

“That wasn’t the kind of body I had in mind to see,” Gunn cringed. Cordelia just looked at him. He held up his hands in surrender. “We’re going, we’re going.” 

[Angel] watched as they left and Cordelia followed them. “Hey, you know what? That’s a great idea. I’ll just stay here, hold the fort, and keep an eye on the evidence.” He crammed a big bite of burrito in his mouth. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, a couple of hours later_**

[Angel] was in Wesley’s office, shredding the newspaper clippings of the mysterious dead men. With that done, he sat back with a sigh, put his feet up on the desk and picked up a martini glass to take a sip. 

“What are you doing?” a shy feminine voice asked. 

[Angel] saw Fred peeking around the door and grinned. “Well, hey there, sweetheart. Where have you been hiding?” 

Fred flustered at the endearment. “You know, up in my room. Everybody keeps saying ‘Fred, you should get out more’ and well . . .” 

“Fred, mm,” [Angel] mused. He took a sip from his glass then stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. “Have I ever told you that you are a very _beautiful_ woman?” 

“Um, no?” Fred said uneasily. 

“Do you like olives?” [Angel] asked as he pulled the toothpick with the olive out of his drink and offered it to her. She ate it out of his hand, smiling. 

Just then, the phone rang. [Angel] put his drink down and excused himself to answer it. 

“Hello?” 

“Don’t go all night stalker on me,” Lilah said without as much as a greeting. “But, I’ve just done you a favor.” 

[Angel] didn’t know who the woman was on the phone, but she sounded like she could go a few rounds with him. This Angel person surrounded himself with beautiful women. This Angel Investigations gig was looking like a good prospect. The woman on the phone sounded like she was as beautiful as the women Angel worked with. That decided, he poured on the charm. 

“And what can I _do_ for _you_?” 

“We both agree that business with Cordelia was just business, right?” Lilah asked. 

“Sure.” [Angel] had no clue what she was talking about, but played along anyway. 

“I have all the certifications for your hotel that you need, earthquake safety, statement of asbestos level compliance, all of it. How about I bring them by and drop them off?” 

[Angel] was silent, thinking of the best way to address this new matter. Apparently, it was too long a wait for the woman on the other end. 

“I’m not playing you here,” Lilah said. “It’s not about you. It’s about Gavin. He thinks he’s so smart.” When he still didn’t say anything, she pointedly added, “You’re welcome.” 

That got his attention. Thinking fast, he knew he had two balls in his court: Fred, who turned out to be a girl, and the woman on the phone, trying to seduce him with her voice. “I’m sorry. Thanks. I’ll tell you what, let’s meet somewhere for the exchange.” 

“O-okay,” Lilah agreed. 

[Angel] hung up and smiled at Fred. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and put on something pretty and we’ll go out on the town?” 

“Really?” Fred said excitedly. 

[Angel] tipped her on the nose with the toothpick, making her giggle. “And that’s just for starters.” 

“What about Spike? Is he going with us?” Fred asked. 

“What about him? I’m sure he’ll understand the need for you to get out and enjoy yourself,” Angel] replied. 

“Okay, I’ll just – I’ll go and – okay,” Fred stammered and ran out of the office. 

[Angel] shook his head. “Hoo!” He sat back down at the desk and whistled as he continued to shred paper. 

When Fred came back down the stairs, [Angel] was ready to take her out. He suggested they go for a walk since it was a nice night. Fifteen minutes into the walk, [Angel] started touching her intimately: a caress of a finger on her cheek, brushing her hair back, putting an arm around her shoulders. 

It wasn’t until he tried to feel her up with the suggestion that they find another hotel, that Fred started freaking out. As far as she knew, Angel and Spike were devoted to each other. They were mated and as much as she adored them both, she honestly couldn’t see Angel cheating on Spike. 

“Angel, no, as much as I want this and have for a long time, I can’t do this,” Fred said. 

“Why not?” asked [Angel]. 

“Because, there’s Spike to consider,” Fred said. 

“What about him? Why does he have to come between us? I know you want me Fred. I can smell it from here,” [Angel] said lewdly. 

Fred looked at him strangely as if she didn’t recognize him anymore. She scoffed, shrugged away from him and ran back to the hotel. 

[Angel] watched her leave, yelling after her, “That’s okay. I’ve already got a date set up.”


	8. Chapter 37-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 37-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 4)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Spike sat behind the reception desk with a glass of blood and a magazine when Cordelia walked in, laughing to herself. 

“Hey, Spike!” she said cheerily. 

Spike eyed her speculatively then went back to reading. 

“If Julia Roberts ever makes a realistic movie about being an escort, I think it should be called **_Pretty Skanky Woman_**.” She stopped at the counter and looked interested in what he was doing. 

“Sounds like you got shagged right and proper while you were there, pet,” Spike commented without looking up. 

“Ew, Spike,” Cordelia cringed as she put her purse down. 

They both looked up at the door as Fred came rushing in, crying her eyes out. Spike swiveled off the stool and hurried around the desk, meeting Fred in the middle of the lobby. He and Cordelia guided her over to the round settee in the center of the room and sat down on either side of her. 

“Fred, what’s wrong? What happened?” Cordelia asked concerned. 

“What was it and how many ways can I kill it before it dies?” Spike added. 

“He invited me to go out with him. He’s always been so nice and chivalrous before. We went for a walk and everything was going so well, you know? He even called me a sweetheart. But, that’s just expression, isn’t it? Like when Spike calls us ‘luv’ and ‘pet’? It doesn’t mean your special or anything. It’s just a word, right? _Sweetheart_.” 

“Fred, you are special,” Spike countered. 

“Is this about Angel?” Cordelia asked softly. When Fred nodded, she asked, “He talked to you, didn’t he? This is all my fault. I told him to do that.” 

Fred turned and glared at Cordelia. “You told him to make lewd advances . . .” 

That got Spike’s attention and he glared at Cordelia too. “What the bloody hell were you thinking, Cordy?” 

“What?” Cordelia seemed shocked herself. “No! I didn’t tell him to do that!” 

“We’re trying to get Fred to get over her crush and _still_ remain friends, not scare her away from him and all men!” Spike said angrily. 

“I did _not_ tell him to make lewd advances towards her, though now that I think about it, that’s so like him to take what I say out of context!” Cordelia said defensively. 

“What’s going on here?” Gunn asked from the back door as he and Wesley walked in. 

“Angel happened under Cordelia’s suggestion,” Spike replied blandly. 

“For the last time, I did _not_ suggest that he make advances towards Fred,” Cordelia said exasperated. She looked at Wesley, Gunn and Spike in turn. “So, general consensus is: Angelus is back?” 

Fred looked around at each member, completely lost. “Who’s Angelus?” 

“The bad-ass vamp Angel turns into when he gets evil. But then, why didn’t he just kill Fred?” Gunn said. 

“Because it’s not Angelus,” Spike said. 

“Or Angel for that matter,” Cordelia added. 

“How do you know for sure?” Gunn asked. 

“He’s my Sire. Even if I wasn’t mated to the pillock, I’d feel it in my blood. It may be the old bastard’s body, but someone else is at the wheel. I’ve been having this strange feeling since [Angel] came back from the gym. Last night, I went back to the retirement home and found Angel – our Angel there,” Spike explained. 

“So, what are we dealing with, a demon?” Gunn asked. 

“No, an elderly warlock. He’s been watching the gym across the street and using some sort of spell to switch places with the guys in the gym,” Spike replied. 

“And when the human bodies die or gets used up, the spell wears off and he gets thrown back in his own body,” Wesley surmised. 

Cordelia’s eyes widened when the implication of what Wesley and Spike were discussing. “And now, he’s in Angel’s body.” 

The bang of the door opening and closing drew everyone’s attention and they looked at the source. [Angel] stood in the entryway holding a stack of certificates. He stopped when the group silently stared at him. 

“What did I miss?” he asked. 

Cordelia stood up and stalked towards [Angel], demanding, “Where have you been?” 

“I was out getting the documents needed to circumvent Gavin with the hotel,” [Angel] replied. He looked at the team staring back. “What?” 

Cordelia snatched the stack of paper from him to examine them. 

“That’s what you broke Fred’s heart for, to protect the hotel?” Gunn asked angrily. 

“Isn’t protecting the hotel a good thing?” [Angel] asked. 

Spike walked up to him and punched him. “That’s for hurting Fred.” He punched [Angel] in the face, knocking him down. This version of his Sire was still weaker than Spike was which could have been another clue that it wasn’t the real Angel. Then, Spike kicked him in the ribs. “That’s for stealing Angel’s body and using it to hurt Fred.” With another punch to the face, Spike knocked [Angel] out. 

Gunn walked up to Spike, put a hand on his shoulder and stared down at the body. “Did that get it out of your system?” 

“Not even close,” Spike replied. 

“It will have to do. We need to get him back to the nursing home and the bodies switched before he wakes up,” Wesley said. 

“Right,” Cordelia agreed. “Spike, you and Gunn carry him out to the car.” 

Gunn spun on Cordelia. “Why me?” 

“’Cause Angel’s spent years drinking animal blood and now he’s just big and heavy,” Spike bit out. “I’m not hauling him out there over my shoulder.” 

“Fine,” Gunn said and grabbed one side of [Angel] while Spike grabbed the other side and carried him out to the car. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home_**

The back door Spike had used before opened and the crew scurried in with Gunn and Spike carrying [Angel]. Cordelia was on the lookout for staff members as they smuggled the body through the halls to Marcus Roscoe’s room. They barged in, surprising [Marcus], but not enough for the fatal fourth heart attack that Ryan, the orderly, had warned him about. 

“Damn, am I glad to see you?” [Marcus] exclaimed. 

“No time for hugs now, Angel,” Spike said. “We need to get him tied up and do the spell.” 

Gunn sat Angel’s unconscious body in a chair and Fred and Cordelia tied him to it. [Marcus] sat down across from him and looked at the bruises on his body. 

“What happened to me?” [Marcus] asked. 

“Spike went a little overboard with the pummeling,” Fred replied. 

“Do you secretly hate me that much?” [Marcus] asked, taking in the bruise-mottled flesh that was quickly healing. 

Spike stepped back to examine his handiwork with the ropes. “I may have been working through some issues.” 

“He hurt Fred,” Gunn added. 

[Marcus] nodded, accepting that explanation. 

“Are you all right?” Cordelia asked. 

“I got to pee,” [Marcus] announced. 

“Not liking that pesky human trait are you?” Spike asked. 

“Just hurry up and get the spell done before I have another heart attack,” [Marcus] grumbled. 

“Did you happen to notice a small Algurian conjuring orb? It could have been glowing,” Wesley said. 

“Over there,” [Marcus] pointed to a shrine on the book shelf. 

Wesley grinned. “I was right. It was an Algurian body-switching spell.” 

“Spell now, pat yourself on the back later,” Gunn said. 

Fred grabbed a hardcover book and whacked [Angel] over the head, causing everyone to look at her in surprise. 

“Fred! What are you doing? He’s out!” [Marcus] asked. 

“He deserved it for what he did to her,” Spike explained. 

Wesley had the conjuring orb in his hand and handed a slip of paper to [Marcus] “Read this.” 

“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota,” [Marcus] recited. 

[Angel’s] head rose up and a blue-and-white light issued from [Marcus’s] eyes and nose as a red-and-white light flowed from [Angel’s] eyes. The blue-and-white light disappeared into [Angel’s] mouth while the red-and-white light entered [Marcus]. Their heads sagged onto their chests. 

After a moment, Angel’s head came up and he looked at Spike, a slightly dazed expression on his face. “God, it’s good to see you again, baby boy.” 

Spike nodded to Gunn and the vampire hunter untied Angel’s hands. He immediately stood up and draped himself over Spike’s shoulders. Thankfully, the younger vampire didn’t need to breathe as Angel hugged him until he heard a slight cracking sound. 

Angel leaned heavily on his boy as he turned and looked at Fred. She didn’t look physically harmed. “Are you okay?” She nodded. 

“I got his conjuring stone,” Cordelia said as she gave it to Angel. 

“You can’t take that!” Marcus yelled angrily. 

Angel stood straight and closed his hand, crushing the stone to powder. 

“You . . .! You don’t deserve that body!” Marcus accused. 

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you. I’ll tell you why you have a weak heart, Marcus. You never use it.” Angel grabbed Spike’s shoulder and they started to leave with the team falling in behind them. 

“You’re pathetic!” Marcus yelled, standing up in his insistence. “You’re all pa . . .” 

Angel turned back and said, “You should try and keep a lid on that rage, Marcus. It’s not healthy.” With that, Angel and the team walked out as Marcus sunk back into his chair, clutching at his heart. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Angel felt like the old man whose body he had escaped from. He had said goodnight to the gang and came upstairs with Spike. Stripping off his clothes, he crawled into bed, groaning painfully. Spike watched him shift around to a comfortable position before shedding his own clothes and joining him. 

“I take it by the sounds, sex is out tonight?” Spike teased. 

“I just need to . . . re-acclimate to my own body again,” Angel groaned. “What did you hit me with?” 

“My fist and my boots,” Spike replied. “Besides, it wasn’t you I was punching at the time. You told me to make him hurt if he hurt Fred. So, I did.” 

“I think Fred has more strength than I gave her credit for. What did she knock him in the head with?” Angel asked, rubbing the back of his head. 

“A hardcover coffee table book on birds, I think,” Spike said with a chuckle. 

“Explains why I’m still seeing them fly around my head,” Angel quipped. 

“You never took recovering well, did you? Always had to be up and at the next brawl,” Spike recalled. 

“I think you’re confusing my history with your own,” Angel groaned painfully. 

“Well, yeah, but then I enjoyed the recovery part,” Spike smirked. “Dru took care of me.” He cringed as he really thought about that. “As much as any insane vampire could take care of me.” 

Angel carefully rolled over onto his side to look at his childe. He held his ribs to try and ease the pain. “Are you trying to make me jealous enough to punish you?” 

Spike leaned closer and kissed Angel on the lips lightly. He laughed quietly when his Sire jerked back a little when the pressure hit a sensitive cut. Angel growled softly before he grabbed Spike and pulled him over on top of him, kissing him hard. 

Spike broke the kiss and pulled back slightly. “I thought you were in too much pain for this.” 

“And I think you’re an insolent, impetuous pain in my ass,” Angel retorted, wincing. 

“And a few other places, it would seem. You should really keep a lid on that anger. It’s not healthy,” Spike teased. 

“Very funny, cheeky brat,” Angel nipped at Spike’s lower lip. “My heart isn’t beating, so I have no problem with that now. However,” he clutched at his boy’s hips and ground against him, “other parts of me are developing a pleasant ache.” 

“Are you sure you’re not in any pain,” Spike teased. “’Cause you know, I’ve been told I’ve very good at taking care of others.” 

“Ah,” Angel said as if he were just told a big secret. “In that case, I have a headache, a black eye, bruised cheek, busted chin, a couple of cracked ribs from someone’s clod-hopping boots. Then, there’s a problem with swelling balls and a thickened cock to deal with. I’m in too much pain to handle it all.” 

“You’re a vampire, suck it up,” Spike smirked at the bad pun. 

“Would rather have you do it,” Angel pouted. 

Spike kissed Angel’s temple near the black eye he had put there himself. Then, he brushed his lips over a bruised cheek. Sliding lower, he mouthed the sore chin and pressed open mouth kisses along Angel’s neck. Moving down the big body, he ran the flat of his tongue along the aforementioned cracked ribs. 

Spike rose up and looked at his Sire. “Feel better?” 

“No, you missed a couple of places,” Angel replied casually. 

“Keep milking it and this won’t get very far,” Spike warned. Angel looked at him innocently. “Try that look on someone who doesn’t know you.” 

“Well,” Angel said thoughtfully. “There is this hard erection I have, and my balls are heavy. Could you do something about that?” 

Spike shifted to his demon and looked at his Sire through yellow eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

Angel swallowed hard as he watched his childe slide down the bed until his stomach was on the mattress. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of Spike’s fangs skimming the tender skin of his inner thigh. He groaned when he felt a sandpaper tongue lick up the small amount of blood that escaped the furrowed wound. He held back from tightening his muscles against the fang worrying the juncture of his thigh and pelvis. The deadly fangs skimmed the flesh along his navel and Angel thanked the Powers that Spike hadn’t gone for his cock yet. 

Spike knew Angel was imagining the time they shaved each other. The hair had grown back a while ago, but one never forgot how close a razor cut near the important bits. He leaned down and licked the huge monolith from base to tip. The curse that passed Angel’s lips could have been from the sensation of his tongue or the pain in the ribs from jerking up. Spike wasn’t sure. 

He felt his Sire reach for the hand cleanser on the bedside table. Then a guttural “Turn around.” He shifted back to his human face and turned his body so that he was straddling Angel’s chest and resumed tongue-bathing Angel’s cock. He sucked in a hissing breath and squeezed the base of Angel’s erection when he felt strong fingers hold him open and a dexterous tongue push through the anal ring. 

Spike rested his forehead on Angel’s thigh as the elder vampire held his body down and worked his tongue deeper. The only recourse Spike had was to push back and forth on the tongue, rubbing his cock on Angel’s chest. He cursed to himself and methodically stroked his Sire’s hard length as he fucked himself on the insistent tongue. 

Spike moved closer to the erection in his hand and licked his way up the length as if it were a sturdy post holding him up. He pulled the crown closer and pressed his tongue into the slit. That caused Angel to jab his tongue into him. 

“Bloody sodding hell. Have to learn not to do that,” Spike told himself. 

He opened his mouth over the tip and slowly sucked his way down the shaft. Angel’s hold on him wouldn’t allow him to touch base. He stroked what he couldn’t reach and sucked leisurely, making it into a massage of his tongue against the shaft. With Angel teasing the nerve endings at his anal opening, Spike thought it only fair to return the favor. He put a hand between Angel’s legs and rubbed a finger along the perineum to the hidden hole and wiggled the finger inside, rotating it in circle to tease the tight muscle. 

Angel pulled away and dropped his head back on the pillow. Feeling Spike’s exploratory fingers go somewhere no one else had made him squirm and writhe. That only caused the sensation to intensify and his inner muscles clamped down on the probing digit. Having Spike’s ass within easy reach wasn’t bad either. He smacked the alabaster skin for his childe’s boldness. 

To get back at Spike, Angel nudged his entrance with the nozzle of the hand cleanser and gently worked it inside. Then, he gave the bottle a quick squeeze in the middle, squirting cold liquid into Spike’s ass, causing the younger vampire to jerk forward and subsequently swallow the head of his dick. 

Spike sucked up off Angel’s length, making the dark vampire groan at the tugging sensation. He turned his head and glanced back in the direction of his Sire. Angel removed the bottle and tossed it on the bed. Spike bit his lip and groaned when he felt fingers push into him and circle around coating his insides with the liquid. 

“Turn around and ride me,” Angel said in a low raspy voice. 

Spike carefully pulled away from the fingers until they slipped out. He turned around and reached down to guide Angel inside him. He deliberately kept his eyes open to watch his lover’s expression as he slowly slid down the length. Angel caressed his hand over Spike’s thighs and down his arms, taking the beautiful hands in his and pressing their fingers together. Spike entwined their fingers, squeezing his Sire’s hand and then lined up their fingers again. 

“Move slowly,” Angel softly instructed. He entwined their fingers again, holding Spike’s hands captive so that the younger vampire couldn’t use them for balance. 

“You’re making it difficult to do this,” Spike said raggedly. 

“Just move your hips.” 

“I’ll lose my balance.” 

“No you won’t. Rock your hips back and forth.” 

Spike tightened his fingers in Angel’s and moved his hips forward, feeling the shaft move out and then shifted back, feeling it fill him again. Angel stretched his arms out slightly, causing Spike to stretch with him, until he was suspended above him. 

“Faster, Spike.” 

“I’ll fall.” 

“You won’t fall. Even if you did, I’m here. It’s not like you’ll topple over onto the floor.” 

“You’re injured, what if I do something to make it worse?” 

Angel raised a brow at that. “You care about my welfare? How sweet.” 

“Shut up, pillock,” Spike grumbled. 

Angel flashed a grin. “They are already healing. You can’t hurt me, you know that. You’ve tried enough times over the years. Fireplace pokers and hot iron rods ring a bell?” 

Spike looked wistful for a moment. “I remember those days, good times.” 

Angel started to pump his own hips as he felt himself nearly ready to cum. The movement forced Spike to go with him. The younger vampire rose up and fell back to meet his Sire’s thrusts. Once a rhythm was set, Angel started moving faster, causing Spike to bounce on his thrusts. 

“There, see?” 

Angel watched Spike’s eyes close. He allowed it since the pleasure was etched on his boy’s face. When Spike’s mouth opened on a silent moan, Angel mimicked him since he felt the inner muscles clench around him. His hand let go of Spike’s and started to stroke the younger vampire’s cock in time to the rhythm they had set. Spike released his other hand and leaned down over him. Angel nuzzled against his face until he parted his lips and kissed him. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Spike grunted as he bucked his hips between Angel’s cock and Angel’s fist. “Cum for me, Spike,” he whispered. 

The blonde vampire tensed and growled low as he released semen all over his Sire’s hand and stomach. The feeling caused Angel to cum with him. Spike slowly slid off the flaccid member. He collapsed on his Sire’s body in a boneless heap, sighing when Angel ran his fingertips slowly along the damp skin of his back. 

“That was . . .” Spike started to say. 

“Unbelievably erotic to watch,” Angel finished. 

“We’ll start with that.” 

Spike slid off of Angel and onto his side. His Sire’s arms tightened around him so that he didn’t go too far away. He rested his head on Angel’s shoulder and ran his fingertips over the elder vampire’s torso. 

“You’ll never leave me again,” Spike inquired tiredly. 

“Not if I can help it,” Angel said, running his fingers through his boy’s hair, loosening the stiff curls at the top. 

“This time with you . . . here at the hotel with the team, it’s what I’ve searched for all these years I’ve existed,” Spike admitted. “Ever since you left, all I ever wanted was to be with you again. My existence, my reason for going on day to day, is because of you.” 

Angel’s chest tightened at the confession. He never realized how much of an impact being in L.A. would have on Spike. As far as he knew, Spike had always hated Los Angeles and suffered it because Angel wanted him here. He kept silent. The only response was the lulling caress of fingers along Spike’s back. 

“The team is like my family, Angel. They can be annoying sometimes, but I care about them. Fred’s like a little sister to me. She reminds me of Dru. Cordelia’s feisty and great to bicker with. Gunn is good to spar with and I’d have his back in a second. Unless he pulls a stunt like he did a few weeks ago. Percy’s even grown on me.” 

“Yeah, they’re a . . . unique group of people,” Angel agreed, lazily caressing his boy’s back. 

“Then there’s this great brooding gorilla I know,” Spike teased. 

“Brooding gorilla?” Angel asked his brow etched in confusion. 

“I’m sorry, would you rather I said ‘ape’?” Spike grinned. 

“One’s just as bad as the other,” Angel grumbled. 

“But, the brooding gorilla is the most important part,” Spike insisted childishly. 

“Not if you keep referring to him as a gorilla,” Angel replied sardonically. 

“Speaking of brooding gorillas, you really need to have that talk with Fred about her crush on you. I mean it’s cute and all that rot, but if you don’t put the brakes on it now then she’ll never get on with her life. Just tell her that you’re a big ugly ape and she’s a pretty wood nymph, that the two don’t go together and as much as you like her, you don’t see any Wood Nymph-Apes in the offing,” Spike implored. 

Angel rolled them over until Spike was on his back and he sat up. “Stop referring to me as a primate.” With that, he found all the other vampire’s ticklish spots and exploited them until Spike convulsed in a wiggling, cursing, laughing fit. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Courtyard_**

Fred sat on the edge of a dry fountain in the darkened courtyard, reading a book by the light shining through the windows of the lobby. Angel and Spike, fully dressed in their usual black ensemble, came down the stairs of the small veranda behind her. 

“Now remember, an ape and a wood nymph can’t procreate,” Spike chuckled. 

“What if I want little wood nymph-apes?” Angel shot back petulantly. 

“Eunuchs can’t have wood nymph-anything,” Spike reminded him. 

“I’m not a eunuch!” Angel hissed. 

“Are too!” 

“Am not!” 

“You produce dead seed, you can’t create anything from that,” Spike said. 

“I created enough noise out of you, didn’t I?” Angel grinned smugly. 

“Yeah, well, I’m a sleek gazelle,” Spike replied. “You can’t resist me.” 

“Can we stop with the animal kingdom euphemisms?” 

“Look, Angel, this crush Fred has on you is getting in her way,” Spike said. “Have you seen the way both Wes and Gunn look at her? She has chances, with humans who can give her what a young woman like Fred needs.” 

“Their full attention, sunny walks on the beach, a warm body, kids,” Angel conceded. “I know. I’ll talk to her, just no mention of mythical creatures and primates. I’m a grown vampire here.” 

Fred looked behind her and startled. She closed the book and shifted nervously. 

“Hi,” Angel said softly. 

“Hey,” she replied as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. “How’s your head? S-sorry about that . . .” She swung her book like she was hitting something. 

“Ah, I,” Angel rubbed away the imaginary pain in the back of his head. “Gather I had it coming.” 

“Mm, yes,” she said matter-of-factly. 

Spike gestured impatiently for him to talk to her about the important issue or he’d hit Angel again. The dark vampire scowled at him as he sat down next to her. 

“Fred, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Angel stammered. 

She put her book down and smiled at him. “Okay.” 

Angel was silent, looking out at the night, anywhere but at Fred and Spike. 

“Is this about how you’re not like other men, what with that curse and all . . . and how you’re really fond of me, but that’s as far as it goes?” Fred asked. 

“Um . . . yeah,” Angel said. 

“Cordelia explained it to me,” Fred chuckled softly. “She said you’d probably just screw it up.” 

Angel gave her a small smile. “Oh, she did, did she? She’s probably right.” 

Spike sat down on the other side of Fred and watched her. “Fred, Angel and I both love you to pieces, but we’re demons. Old, set in our ways. Besides, what can Angel give you? He’s perfected that brooding mystique so well, he’s dull and boring. A young girl like you should be out enjoying your life, not stuck in the dark taking care of a grumpy old man like Angel.” 

Fred sighed and looked down at her hands. 

“What?” Angel asked concerned. 

“It’s like something out of Fitzgerald,” she replied, “The man who can have everything but love. Maybe in some ways you’re better off, because love is . . . well, in a way it’s everything. But, it’s also heartache and disappointment. Those are good things to avoid.” 

“I’m not as grumpy as Spike makes me out to be,” Angel stated with a glare towards his childe. 

Spike pursed his lips. “Angel, unless you and I are together and you let your demon out, you are a grumpy brooder around humans, who happens to save their lives and get hero worshiped.” 

“I’m _not_ hero worshiped,” Angel said defensively. He glanced at Fred who looked at him adoringly. “Okay, so maybe I am a little.” 

“So, let’s get this over with,” Spike said. He took Fred’s hand in his. “Luv, Angel is not the one for you. You are a highly intelligent, resourceful and attractive young woman. Men easily fall for that in a big way. You have a few admirers already. Don’t waste your time on vampires who cannot walk in the sun with you, or give you any of the things that make being a human worthwhile.” 

“I’m the one in the dark with the blood habit,” Angel added. “You need someone who will take you out for solid meals and can walk in the sun.” 

“Now is _not_ the time to turn me on,” Spike smirked. “I’m trying to be serious here. But, if you wanted to take me out for an onion blossom, I wouldn’t say no.” 

Angel gave Spike a mock glare. “Eat that onion blossom and you’ll be sleeping elsewhere, baby boy.” 

“You don’t have to breathe, what is the problem with what I eat?” Spike shot back. 

“Just knowing you eat that. Buffalo wings are one thing, but onions?” Angel shuddered at the idea. 

You would prefer garlic then?” Spike asked with his scarred brow raised. 

“Jalapenos,” Angel threatened and watched in triumph as a grotesque expression formed on Spike’s face. 

“Might do it just for the cheese sandwich and raw onion,” Spike smirked. “It may not last as long, but the initial bite would smother you. You would be reeling for weeks.” 

Fred couldn’t stop giggling at the banter between the two vampires. Even if they haven’t spoken the words, she could feel the affection between them in their constant bickering. Cordelia chose that moment to rush out of the hotel, causing everyone to look up at her. 

“Angel, Willow’s on the phone . . .” Cordelia said breathlessly. “She’s alive! Buffy’s alive!” 

As Cordelia turned around and ran back in, the trio glanced at each other, stunned, and a death knell rang in the vampires ears as they looked at each other. After a moment, Angel jumped up and ran into the hotel after Cordelia. 

“Buffy?” Fred said to herself. 

“Bloody hell, that son of a bitch,” Spike cursed. 

“Spike?” Fred’s voice was soft. 

“It’ll be all right, pet. I promise,” Spike assured her. He squeezed her hand and followed Angel inside.


	9. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Interlude 1_

**_Santa Barbara, Ellwood Bluffs, Night_**

Buffy sat on the edge of the bluff looking out over the ocean while she waited for Angel to arrive. The taxi had dropped her off a half hour ago. She had walked out on her friends and watcher the second she heard from Angel. He said he wanted to see her. Willow had told her that he and Spike were living in L.A. together. She didn’t know how to feel about that. 

When bright headlights pulled up behind her, she stood up and faced them. Seconds later, Spike’s Desoto skidded to a stop in a spray of gravel beside the Plymouth. Spike jumped out of the car and stalked around the convertible angrily. 

“What the bloody hell is going through your head, you bastard!” Spike yelled at Angel who was climbing out of the car. “You just recovered from being possessed by that _thing_ and you drove all the way here for what, to see some bint? I know how this meeting will end and you’re a heartless bastard.” 

“I explained this to you when we left the hotel. I have to see her, Spike. I have to know she’s okay. She’s back from the dead for chrissake!” 

“This is Darla all over again! Remember when your buddies at Wolfram  & Hart brought her back? You spent all your time obsessing over her and now --” 

“I’m not obsessing over Buffy!” Angel yelled back. 

“No, you’re just back to playing her lap dog, answering her beck and call,” Spike sneered. “The very minute Cordy told you she was alive you couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough. I was driving ninety on the freeway just to _see_ your taillights!” 

“Spike!” Angel growled. 

Buffy cleared her throat. “Hey, what’s the big argument about?” 

No one answered. Spike glared at Angel silently, daring him to say something. Angel stared back, silently begging Spike to understand what he was doing, but it didn’t seem to be working. He knew his boy was pissed. He had called Buffy when he got inside the hotel and set up a time to meet with her. He and Spike argued about what Angel’s real motives were after that. Then, Spike found another room to sleep in, separating them for the first time in months. 

“You really are a soulless son of a bitch,” Spike hissed. “After all we went through together in L.A. You literally begged me to go back with you. I was so close to forgiving you . . . so close!” 

“Well, it’s good you didn’t then, ’cause you need to go back with her,” Angel said, angry at himself and hurt that Spike didn’t trust him to do this. 

“Fuck you, Angel!” Spike said angrily. “Say what you got to say to the _true love_ of your life!” 

“I am!” Angel roared. He’d gone past being angry at himself and was now annoyed with Spike. “We have an _eternity_ to be together! Buffy has a normal life span, and much shorter for being a slayer than normal. We have to protect her!” 

Spike gestured between them angrily. “There’s no **_we_** , Angel! There’s **_you_** _telling **me**_ that I have to leave the _mirage_ of a life you dangled in front of me in L.A. and go back to something miserable, just so you have a clear conscience!” 

“Do you think I wanted to be physically separated from you? I wasn’t the one that grabbed a blanket and found another room to sleep in last night!” Angel yelled, unnoticed tears tracking down his face. 

“No, you’ll just put miles between us. You could’ve found me last night. I was in the same hotel! But **_NO_**! Now, you want me to go with her, protect your ‘love’, stay with the Scoobies, who I never connected with?” 

Buffy tilted her head, watching the argument as if it were on television and not right in front of her. Being away so long hadn’t prepared her for the sight of Angel angry and crying over Spike. Wasn’t he supposed to be angry that Willow brought her back against her will? Maybe Angel met her here, bringing Spike with him so that he could say goodbye again? 

“A normal life span?” Spike was asking incredulously. “Buffy doesn’t have a normal life let alone a span of it! That witch will just bring her back again! **_HEY_** , maybe we can enroll her as a sideshow freak: the super girl that can never die because her friends won’t allow her to rest in peace!” 

“So, are you arguing for or against her being back!?” Angel yelled. 

“I don’t care where she is! I’m being practical and stating a fact. Apparently, what I want in this relationship doesn’t matter!” Spike shouted. Now, his cheeks were wet with his own unnoticed tears. 

“She needs someone there to talk to, Spike. She crawled up out of her own grave! Who knows what that’s like better than us!” Angel tried to drive the point home. 

Buffy stood there watching them argue over her with disembodied interest. She still wasn’t quite used to being alive yet. Angel was saying that she needed someone there to help her and Spike was refusing to be that person. Not that it meant anything to her right now. 

Spike expression turned to a look of devastation as he stared at the demon who had been his lover for nearly three years. Angel watched the look with anguish. He expected Spike to be upset and to fight with him, but that look nearly crushed him. Then, it was replaced with one of resentment and what could only be described as disgust. 

“Why didn’t you leave me to hate you? I made that into a favorite pastime! I’ve hated you from the moment you left me. Then, you came back with all this talk of want and need, when all you wanted was a fucking babysitter! Then it was: oh no, I really want you! After all we had, you would send back to her!” 

“It’s not like that, Spike!” Angel insisted as he moved closer. 

Spike shuffled backwards, nearly tripping over a rut in the ground. “No! I may be love’s bitch, but enough is enough. What I do now, I do for myself!” 

“We’re mated, wherever you go, I’ll be there too,” Angel stated. 

“Funny how you conveniently remember that when it suits you. When it’s about something you want! I don’t want some mind control games, Angel. I want the physical you. If I can’t get that, then this is it,” Spike slashed his hand through the air for emphasis. “The end. You send me back with her, I’m on my own.” 

Angel stalked Spike and grabbed his arms to keep him from bolting. “I will _always_ be there. Beyond. Dust. Spike. Nothing will change that.” 

The blonde vampire shrugged his Sire’s hands away, a heartbroken expression fluttering across his face before it disappeared a second later. Angel wondered if he saw it at all. “If you want to believe that, fine, but I can’t afford to, not when I’m faced with your actions of late.” Spike turned away, heading for the Desoto. “You got five minutes, Slayer. Go talk to your boyfriend, get whatever it is out of your system and get in the car. Otherwise, I’ll leave you here to hitchhike back to Sunnydale.” 

Angel watched Spike stomp back to the Desoto, get in and slam the door. He sighed dejectedly. He had to fix this some way, but didn’t know how. With shoulders slumped, he walked over to Buffy to finally talk to her. 

“Hi,” he said softly, unsure of what to say to her. ‘How was coming back from the dead for you, ’cause it was a real blast for me’ didn’t sound like a great opener. 

“Hey,” Buffy stammered. “So, Spike’s been with you for the whole time I’ve been away?” She shifted uneasily, waving her hands for emphasis. “I know I was dead and everything, but didn’t you spend any time mourning me at all?” 

“Of course I did. Spike even mourned you in his own way,” Angel replied. “We went on a retreat, met some monks – okay, so they were demons and we had to kill them – but, it was supposed to be spiritual.” 

“So you went on this spiritual retreat because you were so upset that I died – and took Spike with you?” Buffy’s question sounded more like an accusation. 

Angel’s brow furrowed in confusion. He didn’t know what the big deal was. There was no reason he could think of that he wouldn’t have taken his childe and mate with him. “I don’t understand Buffy. What was wrong in taking Spike with me?” 

Buffy looked hurt by his words. Angel was the love of her life and he didn’t understand why she was so upset that he had Spike around while he was supposed to be mourning his loss. They were supposed to be like Romeo and Juliet. Like Anthony and Cleopatra, if the history she got out of that was correct, or Rhett and Scarlet. Yet, the moment she was gone, he went with Spike. 

Buffy threw herself at Angel, crying hysterically as she pummeled his chest, ineffectually. He stood his ground, letting her use him as a punching bag, rocking back when she got a good punch in. Maybe if he let her do this, she’d get it out of her system and punish himself for what he had done to make Spike walk away from him. 

“You were supposed to be mourning me!” she cried pitifully. “You weren’t supposed to go on a spiritual retreat with your . . . whatever Spike is to you.” Her angry outburst ran out of steam and she fell to her knees at Angel’s feet, crying. “You haven’t even asked how I am, where I was or how it feels to be back.” 

Angel stood looking down at her bowed head, listening to her sobs. He was at a loss for what to say to her. He’d spent so much time with Spike’s sarcastic humor that he forgot how emotional Buffy was. The melodrama of their affair always left him feeling unable to cope. A tick developed in his jaw. He didn’t know whether to break down with her or . . . what? Spike had become his priority, even before she died. As much as he cared for her, wanted her to live a long life, he couldn’t just pick up their relationship as if his commitment to Spike never happened. 

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Angel said softly. 

Buffy struggled to her feet and started towards the Desoto. “That’s right, and why do I feel like you wouldn’t care? Go back to you mission in L.A., Angel.” It was a scathing comment and Angel felt the harshness of it, like acid down his spine. “I will go back to Sunnydale with Spike. After all, that’s why I was brought back, to protect the Hellmouth.” 

Angel looked at her slumped back. He wanted to follow her. Reach a hand out to comfort her and tell her things were going to be okay. He knew something was wrong. Deep inside, he knew that even if he found out what it was, he couldn’t do anything else for her. He was already sending Spike out of his life for who knew how long. He thought he was doing the best he could for Buffy, even sacrificing Spike and his own feelings to help her. He couldn’t do more. He knew that. There was no way he could go Sunnydale himself. He had responsibilities back home. 

Angel walked to his car and opened the door, watching as Spike spun out backing up and drove away. He sighed heavily as he got behind the wheel, started the car and drove away in the opposite direction. He had an hour and a half to decide what he was going to tell his team when he showed up sans Spike. 

**************************

Spike drove back to Sunnydale. One hand gripped the wheel in aggravation and the other propped up on the edge of door. Every so often he would glance over at Buffy. Her head was turned, looking out the window or down at her hands. She was just another woman to come between him and his Sire and she sat there looking blameless. That thought made Spike grip the wheel until his knuckles ached. 

Spike broke the silence twenty minutes later. “I’m treating this like one of Cordelia’s visions. This is just another job to me. Once Angel deems you fit to be on your own, I’m gone.” 

“I don’t want to be in your life any more than you want to be in mine,” Buffy said as she continued to stare out the window. 

“Then, we’re agreed,” Spike said with a tone of finality as he returned his attention to the road.


	10. Chapter 38-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

 

##  _Chapter 38-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 5)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“You wouldn’t dare! You were just going to toss in a Prothgarian broadsword with a third-century Sancteus dagger?” Wesley accused. 

Cordelia turned the sword in her hands and gave it a second look. “Hmm. Let’s see: long, metal, sharp . . . yep.” 

“Cordy! The purpose of an inventory . . .” Wesley started to lecture again. 

“Yes, give us that,” Gunn broke into an upper crust English accent, “purpose of an inventory speech _again_.” 

“This wasn’t my idea!” Wesley said defensively. 

“No, but Angel keeps complaining that the weapons cabinet is all different. Who’s the boss around here, Wesley?” She pointed the dagger at him again. “You, or the guy with the pancreas dagger?” 

“What time is it?” Fred asked for the hundredth time. 

Wesley sighed and held up his wrist for Cordelia to read his watch. 

“Six twenty-four, and for those of you who are playing the home game: that’s exactly three minutes from the last time you asked.” 

Fred played with a strange contraption she built while waiting for Angel and Spike to return. She couldn’t wait to show Spike. He’d be impressed with her achievement. It was a cross between a miniature catapult and a suitcase . . . or it made toast. The team members weren’t sure what it was for. 

“I’m sorry,” Fred apologized. “I just . . . I have this theory that the more you are aware of time the more slowly it moves, which _could_ make light speed travel possible, but only if you were to concentrate really . . .” 

“They’ll be back when they get back,” Cordelia broke in, exasperated. 

“So . . .” Fred hedged. “Now that she’s alive again, are they going to get back together? Angel and that girl with the goofy name?” 

“Well, _Fred_ ,” Wesley stressed the ‘goofiness’ of her own name. “That’s a difficult question. I think it’s fair to say . . . no. Not a chance, never, no way, not in a million years and also ‘nuh huh’. He has Spike now. They’re mated and inseparable, he wouldn’t give up what he has with Spike for anything.” 

“But you said he loved her. And of course she’s going to love him back, because he’s so strong and handsome and he really listens when you talk. I-I mean, if you go for that sort of thing, why wouldn’t it work?” 

“Let me break it down for you, Fred,” Cordelia said. She stepped away from the reception desk and fell into her role as Buffy. “Oh, Angel! I know that I’m a Slayer and you’re a vampire . . . and it would be _impossible_ for us to _be_ together, _but_ \--” 

Gunn cracked up at Cordelia’s act as Wesley stood up and tried his hand at Angel’s role. Cordelia turned to look at him. Wesley removed his glasses and lay them aside. 

“But, my Gypsy curse sometimes prevents me from seeing the truth. Oh, Buffy!” 

“Yes, Angel?” Cordelia asked in her Buffy voice. 

“Oh, I love you so much I almost forgot to _brood_!” Wesley said in his Angel voice. 

Gunn laughed harder at Wesley interpretation of Angel as a wide-eyed Fred watched the spectacle. 

“And just because I sent you to Hell that one time doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends,” Cordelia overacted as Buffy. “Oh!” 

Wesley grabbed Cordelia’s wrist and yanked her to him over-dramatically. 

“Or possibly more,” Wesley added. 

Cordelia gave an exaggerated gasp. “No! We mustn’t!” 

Wesley pressed closer to Cordelia demanding, “Kiss me.” 

“Bite me!” Cordelia insisted. 

Wesley twirled her around, dipped her back over his arm and pretended to sink his teeth into her neck. Gunn laughed and shook his head. He and Fred were so riveted on the reenactment that they didn’t see or hear Angel come in. 

“How about you both bite me?” he said sadly. 

Fred jumped up at the sound of his voice. “You’re back!” 

Wesley and Cordelia saw Angel watching them and hurried to break apart as Gunn asked, “How’d it go?” 

Angel gestured towards Wesley and Cordelia trying to look occupied. “I think those two pretty much summed it up. To be honest – I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.” 

Cordelia tugged her miniskirt back into place. “But . . . ah, Angel, we’re your friends.” She gave him a big, friendly smile. “And, and it—it’s not healthy to repress stuff like _this_. You—you need to share your pain, express those feelings of grief and longing or . . . the curiosity is going to kill me!” 

“Oh. No. We wouldn’t want that,” Angel said with quiet cynicism. 

“Personally, I don’t care at all what happened,” Fred said perkily. 

“Shut up, Fred,” Cordelia said as she walked past the girl. 

“So, where’s Spike?” Gunn asked as he looked hopefully at the entrance doors. 

Angel’s expression turned grim. “That’s the part I didn’t want to discuss.” 

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed on him. “What did you do with Spike?” 

Angel looked down at his feet when he confessed, “I sent him back with Buffy.” 

He felt like a naughty child being punished. Daring to glance up, he was met with four pairs of eyes boring into him. The shock and surprised poured off the humans in waves. Angel looked around the expanse of the lobby while he waited for them to comment. When there was only silence, he chanced another look at them. “What? She needs help. It is a Hellmouth after all. We can look after ourselves, we’re a strong team.” 

Wesley looked at him intently. “I seem to remember how strong the Scoobies are as a team and what I understand and know to be true from what has happened is that Willow has gotten stronger. She’s become so powerful that she’s able to raise the dead. Spike was a very good ally. He was a friend and strong asset to the team. Not only in the field but research as well. He was needed here, Angel.” 

Angel was prepared for Cordelia’s anger and Wesley’s speechifying. They’d been around since the start of Angel Investigations. Cordelia was the one that turned what he did on a regular basis into a paying gig, dragging Angel with her kicking and screaming about asking people for money to save them. If he thought about it, Spike was there as well, even if it was only in spirit most of the time. His childe’s travels between cities should have been commonplace by now. 

“You sent Spike away,” Fred accused. “How could you!? He loves you. He wanted to be with you.” 

And now, the ground could open up and swallow him. Fred – who usually thought the sun rose and set on him – was now glaring at him. And why shouldn’t she be? If she saw the devastated look on Spike’s face when he left, she’d know that Angel hated himself enough for the both of them. 

“Hey man, that is so not cool!” Gunn said, putting his two cents in. “We were a tight unit, a crew. You don’t break up something like that. I know she’s the Slayer and all, but I didn’t know she was strong enough to break up a sure thing.” 

“Then, you don’t know our Angel with his Buffy,” Cordelia replied. “If she or her name are in the same vicinity then brood boy over here starts to angst. Losing her may not have killed him, but he lost a backbone when she returned.” She went up and slapped Angel on the arm. “We had all those ‘team building’ exercises which ended up with you as the proud owner of a luxury shower and Fred with a super bath and you sent Spike away?” 

Angel looked helplessly at the team. “I know what I’m doing. Do you think I want this? I wanted to be with Spike, but Buffy needs help. She’s in so much danger from being on the Hellmouth and being a Slayer.” 

“Well, while she’s up there in all that danger, we’re down here with one man down, making it twice as dangerous for us,” Gunn commented. 

Angel walked back up the stairs to the entrance as he said. “Trust me, this is for the best. Spike will help Buffy, our relationship will continue, and everything will be back to normal. Now, just drop it. I know what I’m doing. I know Spike.” 

“If you know Spike so well, then you would know he was quite happy here and didn’t have a thought of leaving. You’d know he wanted to stay here with us . . . with you,” Wesley said. 

“Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Wes. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good. Buffy needed him more.” 

“How dare you say that?” Fred yelled at him. Everyone looked at her with stunned expressions. The last time she was mad at Angel was the day after never. Her outburst was startling. “When you love someone, you don’t give them up to your ex for the greater good. What sort of insane logic is that? We needed him more. **_You_** needed him more!” Fred turned around and angrily went up to her room. 

“So that’s a no on getting ice cream?” Angel asked her as she walked away. 

“No, I want Spike back. I’m not talking to you until you go up there and apologize to him for being an idiot,” Fred said as she stomped up the stairs and disappeared. 

Angel looked up at the balcony, willing Fred to return and take back what she said. When that didn’t happen, he sighed sorrowfully and headed for the door. “I’m going out. Need to find something to kill.” 

The remaining trio watched Angel walk out the door. They looked at each other as silence descended on the lobby. There was no chattering talk from Fred, no Angel discussing Spike’s various, wonderful amenities or the next case, no Spike snarking with them. 

Cordelia shrugged and collected her purse along with her coat. “Well, if he’s not going to work then I’m going home. Bye all.” 

Gunn and Wesley watched her walk out the door and then looked at each other. “I’m hungry, think I’ll go get something to eat,” Gunn said. 

Wesley weighed his options when it looked like Gunn was going to leave him seemingly alone in the hotel. “There’s no research to be done. I think I will join you.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Sewer System_**

Angel walked along one of the tunnels. After he left the hotel, he kept on walking deciding that the exercise and fresh air would help clear his head. He never thought he’d have to give Spike up so soon. Sometimes the idea of having all the time in the world really goes to your head when you’re a vampire. He couldn’t blame Fred for being upset with him. He took away her best friend. Spike was her safety line. Her reason for the risk she took by coming out of her room. 

He was doing a fine job of brooding until he walked past the ice cream shop he was going to take Fred to, had she agreed. He stopped when he saw a Durslar beast terrorizing the patrons. He ran in and distracted the demon until it took off. Now, he was down in the sewers looking for the thing so that he could either reason with it or kill it, whichever came first. Reasoning with it couldn’t be any harder than trying to talk to Spike when they were both upset at the current path their lives had taken. 

Now that he thought about it: after the scene with Spike and Buffy, maybe he would just kill it. Who needed the hassle? 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Back at the hotel, Cordelia had returned after Wesley called her back to finish the inventory of the weapons cabinet. Fred still hadn’t come done from her self-imposed exile after the argument with Angel and Angel hadn’t yet returned from his excursion. That left Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn to do the busy work. 

“Three-pronged Scythian death spear, category six,” Wesley recited. “Weapons Cabinet, third shelf.” 

Cordelia put the tagged spear in the allotted space of the weapons cabinet. 

“You know back in my days as a _rogue demon hunter_ I once used that very spear to pin down what I thought was a small Rodentius demon,” Wesley boasted. “Of course, the poodle’s owners weren’t very happy.” 

Gunn was fed up with the ‘when I was a rogue demon hunter . . .’ stories. One more story and he was going to use a tagged weapon to kill the former watcher. If Spike was here, they could banter over fighting techniques, but Angel sent him away. He turned a pleading look towards Cordelia. “Would you hurry up and get a vision already?” 

Cordelia stood straight and backed away from the weapons cabinet. “Ah gee, Gunn, as much as I would _love_ to endure another soul-splittingly agonizing psychic invasion for your benef – OW! Ow! Ow!” Wesley and Gunn raced over to where she was hunched over in pain. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Gunn whooped triumphantly, thinking she had a vision. 

His expression went south when Cordelia said, “No! Ow, Fred! Ouch.” She hopped around on one foot, favoring her bruising shin. “I really wish she wouldn’t leave her toys lying around!” She hobbled over to the round settee and sat down, rubbing her shin after bumping into Fred’s contraption. 

Gunn looked down at the thing that looked like a convoluted tire jack. “Ooh! A pretty wicked looking toy!” 

“I’ll say,” Wesley agreed. “It’s almost looks like a spring-loaded decapitation device.” 

Cordelia waved at it as she rubbed her shin with the other hand. “Or it makes toast. With her you never know.” 

“Ah. Excuse me! Is this Angel Investigations?” a male voice asked behind them. 

The trio looked up to see a middle-aged couple standing in the doorway of the hotel. 

“Yes, can we help you?” Wesley offered. 

The man walked down the steps to the lobby floor with his wife behind him. “I sure hope so. I’m Roger and this is my wife, Trish. We’re sorry to barge in on your . . .” he glanced at the assorted weaponry lying around, “arsenal here, but we really need to talk to you.” 

Wesley set his weapon down. “Of course, step into my office.” 

Roger craned his neck to get another look at the cache of weapons on display as he ushered his wife towards the office that Wesley indicated. Cordelia and Gunn set their weapons aside and followed them into the small room. 

“I’m Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. These are my colleagues, Cordelia Chase and Charles Gunn. After they all exchanged handshakes, Wesley asked, “What can we do for you?” 

The couple sat down opposite the trio. “It’s our daughter. She’s missing,” Trish said. 

“Oh, no,” Cordelia gasped. “Kidnapped by evil fiends?” 

“We’re not sure,” Trish said. 

“I see,” Wesley said distractedly as he took notes. “Was your daughter involved in any kind of demon worship?” 

“Of course not!” Roger said incredulously. 

“Could be a vampire,” Gunn said thoughtfully. “Hard luck tracking one of those down in a city this big, but don’t worry. We’re detectives. We can find anyone.” 

“We already hired a detective,” Roger said. 

“And he couldn’t locate her?” Wesley asked. 

“He said she was staying here in your hotel,” Roger said in irritation. 

“Her name is Winifred Burkle. We call her Fred,” Trish said. 

Wesley exchanged looks with Gunn and Cordelia. 

At that moment, Fred walked down the stairs to go to the kitchen for something to eat. She heard voices and glanced at the open door to Wesley’s office. Her eyes widened when she saw her parents and ran back up the stairs to her room. 

In the office, Gunn asked, “Fred’s your daughter?” 

“Yes. You know her?” Trish asked. 

“Is she here? Is she all right?” Roger asked. 

“She’s fine,” Wesley assured them. He quickly thought up a lie. Until he could ascertain that this couple was indeed Fred’s parents, he wasn’t going to tell them anything. “And out at the moment with one of our associates.” 

“Who is not an evil fiend,” Cordelia stressed, “or a vampire, because they don’t exist. In case . . . you aren’t familiar with our L.A. gumshoe detective slang.” 

“But, what happened to her? It’s been five years – has she been with y’all this whole time?” Roger asked worriedly. 

“No,” Wesley replied. “Ah, we’ve only known Fred for a few months, really. You see we found her in . . .” He was unsure of how to proceed and looked at Cordelia and Gunn for help. 

“Ah, a fit of depression,” Cordelia said quickly. 

“Fred was depressed?” Trish asked. “Over what?” 

Cordelia looked at Wesley, waiting for him to fill in the blanks. “She had recently relocated and was having trouble adjusting,” he lied, partially. “So, how did you come to find her again?” 

“Oh, about a month ago we got a letter from her in the mail,” Trish replied. 

“But she didn’t leave her return address,” Roger added. “In fact she said she was fine and we shouldn’t bother looking for her, but . . .” 

“Five years of not knowing whether your daughter’s alive or . . .” Trish cut in. “Well, how could we just let it go?” 

“So, we hired a private eye,” Roger said. 

“And he tracked her down through an unaddressed envelope?” Gunn asked smugly. “We could do that.” 

“Wait ’til you guys hear what happened at Häagen-Dazs! Ordinarily, these things don’t put up such a fight, but this one?” Angel’s voice sounded ecstatic in the lobby. “Hoo! I think I’m going to have it . . .” He walked in carrying the Durslar’s severed head and saw Fred’s parents. “. . . Mounted. Uh, hello?” 

“Angel!” Cordelia said. “You’re . . . alone. And, and you brought . . . a prop! From your movie!” She turned to Roger and Trish. “This is Angel. _Angel_ makes monster movies. Angel, these are Fred’s very _normal_ parents.” 

Angel hurriedly put the head behind his back and stared at the couple. “Ah, Fred has parents?” 

**************************

Fred was in her room trying – unsuccessfully – to wipe off the writing on the wall using a wet towel. She looked around the room and grabbed pieces of clothing lying on the nightstand and bed. 

**************************

Angel smiled genuinely. “Well, it sure is nice to meet you both.” 

Roger stared at the Durslar’s head. “Ah. Son, you – your prop is dripping.” 

Angel looked down at the green blood dripping from the severed demon’s neck. He laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah. This,” he swung the demon’s head up by the hair, causing Roger and Trish to step back. “Fake. You know, a little glue, papier-mâché . . .” He blindly tossed the head behind him into the lobby. Not realizing his strength, the power behind throw broke something made of glass when the head landed. Cringing at the sound he added, “. . . possibly some lead. So, Fred’s parents. We’ve heard so much . . . well, um, sure is nice to meet you folks.” 

“No address anywhere on the envelope?” Gunn asked, bringing the topic back on the reason the couple was there. 

“No. None,” Roger replied, turning to Angel. “Do you know when Fred will be back?” 

Angel gave Cordelia and Gunn an oblivious look. They looked expectantly at him in return. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me. Well, yeah, ah, I sent her right back here. Right before I . . . picked up that . . . prop. So, I’m sure she’s up in her room . . . right now.” 

While the team, accompanied by Fred’s parents, examined Fred’s very empty room, wondering what happened to her, she was scared and hurrying down a darkened street wearing a backpack. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Buffy had shown up out of the blue fifteen minutes ago demanding to talk to Spike and she still hadn’t said why. He decided that if he was going to be forced to deal with her, he was doing so while inebriated. 

So, here they were sitting at opposite ends of the couch, knocking back shots from the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the coffee table. Spike watched her pour another shot with a small smile. 

Buffy sat back against the cushions with her glass raised. “This is going to be great.” She threw to the back of her throat and swallowed it. She shook her head and made a horrible face at the aftertaste. “Blaaah!” 

Spike smirked at her reaction to drinking hard liquor, and then slammed his own shot back. 

“Life is stupid,” Buffy said out of the blue. 

“I have a dim memory of that, yeah,” Spike acknowledged as he set his glass down on the coffee table. “And I didn’t figure you were here cadging my whiskey ’cause life’s all full of blood and peaches.” He winced as the last word brought his Sire to mind and shook his head to remove the unwanted image. 

“No. There’s this thing . . . someone’s doing stuff to me, messing up my life,” she admitted. “Except that it was kind of pre-messed already. You know, with school and jobs . . . pretty bad even without the evil.” 

“So you, uh, just what? Gonna let this whoever play you ’til it figure out what kills you?” Spike asked. Yep, he was definitely soused if he’s asking a concerned question like that. 

Buffy shrugged and put down her glass. “Giles is working on it.” 

Spike laughed derisively. “Oh, good, ’cause Giles wields the mighty force of library books.” 

She looked at him skeptically. “You’d do better?” 

“Damn right!” Spike exclaimed. “I’d hit the demon world.” He watched Buffy grab the bottle of whiskey and refilled their glasses. “Ask questions, Slayer, throw punches. Find out what’s in the air. It’s fun too.” 

“It’s not my kind of fun,” Buffy slurred as she screwed the cap back onto the bottle. 

“Yeah, it is,” Spike emphasized. “Your life will get a lot less confusing when you figure that out.” 

“You have had _so_ too much to drink at this point, I am cutting you off,” she slurred. After they both threw a shot of whiskey back, she cringed and shook her head at the aftertaste. “Blaaah!” 

Spike couldn’t keep the smirk off his face at her reaction. “You’re not a schoolgirl or a shop girl.” He watched her pour another shot for herself. “You’re a creature of the darkness, like me.” He nodded when she looked up at him. “Try in my world. See how good it feels.” 

“Are there drinks in your world?” Buffy asked. 

Spike only response was an evil grin. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

The banging on the door had Lorne swearing a blue streak as he walked through the club wearing a bathrobe and smoking a cigarette. 

“Oh figures,” Lorne grumbled, “Right when Judge Judy is about to lay the smack down.” The banging continued, more insistent. “I’m coming! I’m not deaf, you know?” 

Lorne put his cigarette in an ashtray on one of the tables in the deserted club. A second later, the table collapsed, the bottles on top crashed to the floor. He didn’t bother to react. The place was a disaster anyway, what was one more mess? He continued to shuffle towards the bar where he pushed a button that unlocked the door. 

“Can’t you read the sign on the door? Se habla ‘closed’,” Lorne yelled. But, it seemed Fred found her way inside and rushed down the stairs, almost running the empath down. “Oh, Fred, it’s you. The bar is closed.” He turned away and headed back to said bar. “Good seeing you. It’s been fun. Bye-bye!” 

Fred sucked in a deep breath and launched into a verse of **_Row, Row, Row Your Boat_** as she hurried after him. 

Lorne cringed at the tone of panic in her voice. It was a loud screech in the terrified girl. “Ouch! Turn the sirens down a notch, would you? All that fear and panic’s blowing out my fuses.” 

“I’m sorry,” Fred said apologetically. “It’s just . . . something awful has happened.” 

“Oh really?” Lorne asked with an inquisitive brow. He swept a hand out to encompass his club, still destroyed from Gunn’s former gang’s little soiree of guns and ammo. “I wonder what that’s like.” 

Fred surveyed the mess in surprise. “Oh, no, was there another massacre?” 

“Oh, no. No. Just the one,” he assured her. “But it turns out massacres are a lot like sitting through **_Godfather III_** : once is enough.” 

“I’m not . . . I mean, I don’t want to sound . . .” Fred stammered, at a loss for what to say exactly. “Why is it still like this?” 

Lorne didn’t want to think of the destruction to his club while she was here and running scared. “Ah, Fred, honey, I don’t think you’re here to discuss interior decorating. Am I wrong?” He pulled a chair out at an intact table, righted the overturned lamp on it and motioned for her to sit across from him. “Now, what can I do for you?” 

Fred looked down at her hands resting her lap. “I – I need cash. I don’t want to talk about it, because I think my head might go a little twang and I’ll sing if I have to. She broke into **_Row, Row, Row Your Boat_** again. 

Lorne held up his hand as if to ward her off. “Easy! Easy! Forget the singing, sweetheart. Your aura’s practically screaming!” He leaned on the table and looked intently at her. “Yeah, you are in a bad place, aren’t you doll? You thought you could outrun them – that maybe you were free. But, those old monsters hunted you down. I know why you’re running away, Fred. You know what your problem is?” 

“I’m not strong enough to stay and face my fear,” Fred replied sadly. 

Lorne shook his head. “No. You haven’t run far enough.” Fred just stared at him with a blank look. He sighed and went on. “Listen Fredikins, you are afraid of what is happening here. Do you have somewhere else, someone else you can be with, outside L.A.?” 

Fred looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, Angel sent Spike back to Sunnydale. I guess I could go there.” 

“Do you feel safe with him?” Lorne asked. 

Fred nodded. “As safe as I do with Angel . . . maybe more so, right now.” 

“So, go to Sunnydale. Let Spike protect you,” he suggested. 

“But, what if Angel shows up?” 

“Trust me honey, right now for Spike, you come first.” 

**************************

A rat ran along a pipe running along the ceiling of a sewer tunnel above Angel’s head. 

“Fred?” he called out. “Fred, it’s just me! I’m alone. Listen, whatever that thing is with your parents? You know, we can help you. Fred?” 

A pair of glowing blue eyes peered around the corner behind Angel as he walked on. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles Public Library_**

“Does Fred come to the library often?” Trish asked. 

“Uh, well, this was the first place I ever saw her,” Cordelia stammered. 

“She used to love our little community library back home. Every afternoon, I’d pick her up there after my rounds,” Trish said wistfully. 

“Oh, a doctor!” Cordelia exclaimed. “No wonder Fred’s so smart!” 

“I drive a school bus,” Trish corrected. 

Cordelia gave her a false smile. “Oh. Well, I-I’ve actually never – ridden in one of those, but I hear they’re very nice.” 

Roger gave Cordelia an accusatory look. “What exactly does Fred do for you people? It strikes me a little odd, a physicist working for a detective agency.” 

“Uh, well. Fred’s ah . . . gone through some changes,” Cordelia said. She was trying to think of a better excuse when Wesley and Gunn walked in. 

“We’ve swept all the floors. Nothing,” Wesley reported. 

“So, what’s next?” Roger challenged. 

“Give me one second to confer with my colleagues,” Wesley said as he pulled Cordelia to the side with him and Gunn. 

“I could have _told_ you she wasn’t going to be at the library,” Gunn said. 

“If you know so much about her, Gunn, why don’t you just tell us where she is?” Wesley suggested angrily. 

Gunn thought about it, but couldn’t come up with anything but a lame, “Bet that taco stand’s not looking so bad now, is it?” 

“Hey! Mr. and Mrs. Bickerson, a little focus, please,” Cordelia cut in as she stepped between them. “There is _definitely_ something going on with them.” 

Three sets of suspicious eyes look at the conspiratorial stance of the Burkles talking quietly to each other. 

“So, where _do_ we go next?” Wesley posed to Cordelia. “Where would Fred go for help, for guidance?” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Hell’s Ride Bar_**

Spike and Buffy were sitting at a table in a dark corner. Spike was just gaining a second buzz on the alcohol while Buffy was three sheets to the wind and nearly crying in her drink. 

“Spike, I really need to talk to someone and you’re it!” Buffy slurred, one hand clutching the whiskey bottle and her glass in the other. “Do you know what they did to me?” 

“What’d they do, luv?” Spike asked, swirling the liquid in his glass. 

“That’s not what they did,” Buffy slurred caustically, thinking he’d suggested that her friends loved her. She pointed at him with a finger of the hand clutching the bottle. “I’ll tell you what they did to me. They dragged me out of heaven. I was _happy_ , _content_ , _at peace_ , for the first time since I was called. And, wha’ do they do? My _friends_ dragged me back to this hell hole and expect _me_ to be grateful. Part of me hates them for they did. Part of me feels sorry that they are so insecure they had to bring me back.” 

“That seems to be the long and short of it, Slayer,” Spike concurred. 

Buffy took a swig and poured another glass. “Angel sent you here to look after me?” It was more of a drunken statement than a question. “How can you? I’m a mess.” 

“You’ll hear no denials here,” Spike grumbled, staring into his glass. A small part of him felt bad when she sniffled and a single tear slid down her cheek. “Okay Slayer, so you’re a mess. I _was_ sent here by Angel to watch over you and I’ll do that. I can protect you from demons, vampires and humans. But, how am I supposed to protect you from your friends and yourself?” 

“I don’t know Spike,” Buffy slurred. “I know you don’t want to be here. I don’t want you here. But, you’re the only one I can trust with how I feel right now. We’ve both been let down and feeling resentful.” 

Spike lifted a scarred brow at that. She tried to stand up and level herself before she turned and walked out the door. Her head was held high, but her walk had a developed a slight stagger. 

He watched her leave. So, not only was he a babysitter, but the one she was going to confide in. He scoffed, lucky him. He downed the rest of the whiskey. Grabbing the three-quarters empty bottle and the glasses, he took them back to the bar and ordered another drink. 

The bartender looked at him as he poured another drink. “Did the girlfriend walk out on you?” 

With a mirthless laugh, Spike looked at him. “Something like that.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles_**

Angel slowly walked along the sewer, searching for Fred. “Fred? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he called out. 

He jumped when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and opened it. “What? No. You?” He listened to Wesley talk for a few minutes and let out a deep breath. “Oh! You mean the place where she would go for help and guidance!” He turned back the way he came. “And we call ourselves detectives. I’ll meet you there.” 

*****************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike strolled into the mansion with a bottle from the bar in hand. Vampire constitution being what it was he still felt more sober than he wanted to be. He spent the better part of the night with half an ear to the Slayer’s woes while trying to ignore his thoughts of Angel. Why should he waste any time on that tosser when the ponce sent him back here against his will? He was happy in L.A. He felt accepted there and Angel fucked it all up like everything else in Spike’s life and sent him back here. 

Spike growled and threw the bottle at the fireplace where it broke against the cement wall, and splashed the rest of its contents against the façade. That crashing sound was followed by a small yelp. He straightened his spine and searched the darkness. 

“Come on out, pet,” Spike said. 

A second later, Fred stepped into view. The soft yellow light of the lamp on an end table colored her features. She looked like an angel from what he could see. As far as he knew, Fred didn’t know where he lived. He didn’t think Fred would come to Sunnydale? Why would anyone want to come here unless they were forced into exile? 

“Fred? What are you doing here?” he asked softly. “How did you find me?” 

She laughed nervously. “In a town this small, all I had to do was ask where you were. After that, it was deduction. It was fairly simple really, with the ratio of houses to citizens.” 

Spike looked away from her towards the fireplace, muttering, “Damn this town . . . can never keep a secret here.” 

Fred frowned at his words. “Didn’t you want to see me, Spike? ’Cause I missed you something terrible.” 

Spike softened when he heard the plaintive tone in her voice. His expression became one of concern. “I missed you too, luv.” He stepped up and wrapped his arms around her too-thin shoulders. “Come here and give me a hug. It’s good to see a friendly face again.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise,” Lorne commented dryly when Angel and his team – accompanied by Fred’s parents – showed up in his club. 

Cordelia scoffed. “ _He’s_ surprised? I didn’t think he _owned_ terrycloth.” 

Lorne hummed as he perused the small group. “Hmm, such a small entourage tonight. Hey, Gunn, why didn’t you bring your other friends? ’Cause they make a party.” 

Gunn watched the green demon toast the air towards him. He glanced from Angel to Wesley and back to Lorne. “Maybe I should wait outside.” 

“You know, I’m – I’m not entirely uncomfortable with that suggestion,” Lorne said sardonically as Gunn left the bar. 

“What kind of a place is this?” Trish asked as she looked around at the mess. 

“Oh, do you like it? I was kind of going for a Dresden after the bombing sort of feel,” Lorne said sarcastically. 

Roger turned on Angel. “Ah, is this one of your big ‘industry contacts’? Some guy in a bathrobe, wearing make up and fake horns?” 

Lorne took offense to that. “They’re _not_ fake, and it’s – only a little eyeliner. If you want to see eyeliner, you should see Spike. That boy just --” 

“Lorne,” Wesley cut in. “I’d like you to meet Fred’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Burkle. They’re here visiting – _from the country_.” 

“Yeah, you’ll have to forgive us hicks,” Roger said. “Down in Texas we don’t get a lot of guys who wear eyeliner – not for long anyway.” 

“He’s just teasing you,” Cordelia laughed apprehensively. “He probably just got back from a shoot. He and Angel do monster movies _together_! Right, Lorne?!” 

“Ah . . . no,” Lorne replied. 

Angel finally had enough. He walked up to Lorne and pulled him aside. “Can I talk to you a second?” 

Trish leaned against the bar and said in accusatory tone, “Some detectives. You have no idea where our daughter is, do you?” 

Cordelia and Wesley remained quiet and looked guilty. 

Roger eyed them suspiciously. “Maybe they do. Maybe they just don’t want us to find her.” 

A short distance away, Angel pulled Lorne around to face him. “Look, Lorne, I’m sorry about the bar, but right now Fred is missing and we need your help.” 

“Oh really?” Lorne said mockingly. “Yeah, well, I’m not some mystical vending machine here to spit out answers every time _you_ waltz in with a problem. I have a heart. Granted it’s located in my left butt cheek, but it’s still a heart. And that heart is broken! I mean, why is it no one ever cares about _my_ destiny? Everyone who walks through that door is all about me, me, me. Well, what about my me? My me’s important.” 

Angel watched as the empath rambled. He was talking entirely too much, more than usual anyway. He could tell Lorne was hiding something. “You know where she is, don’t you?” 

In response, Lorne continued to talk, hoping Angel wouldn’t press for answers. “A-and another thing, how . . . how do they get the pimentos in the olives, huh? There’s a mystery for you. You know, do they stuff each one by hand, ’cause that seems a little time consuming, or do you think they have a little pimento-stuffing machine . . .” 

Angel just looked at Lorne, waiting for him to shut up and tell him what he needed to know. 

Lorne gave up with a long-suffering sigh. “Fred doesn’t want to see her parents. She has reasons for that. I mean, why force a showdown if you don’t have to?” 

“Because it won’t be over,” Angel said. “They found her once, they’ll do it again. At least this time we can be there to protect her.” Lorne shook his head and looked away. “Please,” Angel begged. “Tell me where Fred is. I know you’re not a slot machine.” 

“Vending machine, you big palooka,” Lorne corrected. He sighed. “All right, but play this one delicately, bro, because it’s going to get messy.” 

“Where is she, Lorne?” 

“She went up to see Spike,” Lorne admitted. 

“Spike? She went to see Spike?” Angel said apprehensively. “He’s in Sunnydale, that’s two hours away, Lorne! Why would she go there? How the hell did she get there?” 

“She went there because she feels safe with him.” Lorne gave Angel an once-over, detecting the tense feelings coming off in waves. “And I can see why. She got there by cab probably.” 

Angel pulled his phone out and punched in Spike’s number. After a few minutes, Spike answered. “What do you want?” 

“Where are you hiding her,” Angel bit out. 

“Her who? You had me babysitting so many women, you have to choose one,” Spike said in angry sarcasm. 

“You know damn well who,” Angel said. 

“I ain’t telling you until you tell me what you lot all did to her,” Spike said. 

“So, help me Spike if you did anything to her to get back at me,” Angel threatened. 

“Me??? You’re one to talk you big ape. Why does everything have to be about you? Are you that narcissistic?” Spike said indignantly. “I’m not the one that sent the girl skittering to another city to get away from your brooding ass, ponce.” 

“When I get my hands on you --” Angel started to say.


	11. Chapter 38-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 38-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 5)_

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

“You’ll what?” Spike asked. “Shag me to death and then be on your merry way? Oooh, I’m so scared.” 

“Damn it, Spike --” Angel said before Spike cut him off by hanging up. 

“That sounds like it went well,” Fred said as he put his phone into the small pouch clipped to his waistband. 

“Hey Fred, how do you feel about dancing?” Spike asked out of the blue. 

By the sound of it, his Sire was coming up to take Fred back where she didn’t want to go. The mansion would be the first place Angel would look and Spike didn’t want or need to see his _mate_ right now. It seemed best to just put off the inevitable and not be here when he showed up. 

“Dancing?” Fred repeated. She was confused by the request, but not turned off by it. In fact, it sounded exciting. After all she had been through, stuck in another dimension for five years. Before that, her studies were more important than a social life. Since she had been back, no one in L.A. offered to take her dancing. Did she even know how to dance? She couldn’t remember. 

“Yeah, dancing,” Spike said. “Where you go to a club, get out on the floor and move around.” 

“With other people?” She made an unpleasant face. 

“Yes, with other people. You’ll be perfectly safe with me. I promise. Anyone so much as looks at you wrong and I’ll rip their throat out,” he assured her. 

“But . . . um . . . Spike I don’t remember how to dance. I don’t even know if I ever did,” she said. 

“Don’t worry, pet. Just stick with me and follow my lead,” Spike said confidently. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, the Bronze_**

Spike and Fred had been dancing for a while. Neither was troubled by any worries. Fred was laughing and having fun. He’d spun her around on the dance floor so many times that she collapsed against him, dizzy and giggling. Spike had fun just watching her face light up with excitement. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. He learned that the second he met her. He was so wrapped up in watching her that he didn’t care to notice that Buffy’s merry band of friends was watching them. 

“Who’s that with Spike on the dance floor?” Xander asked as he watched the blonde vampire hold the smiling girl close. 

Willow nearly gave herself whiplash as she turned around to look. “Spike can dance?” 

“Is that Faith? Is she out of prison already?” Xander asked. 

“I-I don’t think so,” Tara said uncertainly. 

“Well, it’s good that Spike is happy and has a girlfriend. With the way he’s been skulking around watching Buffy, I was starting to get concerned,” Anya said. They all looked at her. “Okay so maybe not concerned, but he’s been acting weird.” 

“If it’s not Faith, then who is it?” Xander asked and then scoffed, “What woman in their right mind would be with Spike? Look at the other women he’s been with: Drusilla and Harmony.” 

“I’m sure Spike can get any woman he wanted to, Xander. With his looks, he can attract more than insane and crazy girls,” Anya said. 

Xander frowned at his fiancée. “Whose side are you on, anyway? Is there like a Demons Unite Organization I don’t know about?” 

When he got up and started to move through the crowd, Willow called out, “Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to go save her before he kills her,” Xander said before disappearing in the mass of bodies. 

Spike had his back turned and was dipping a laughing Fred over his arm with an exaggerated flourish. He gave her a sexy grin that could have melted the polar icecaps. As he pulled her upright, Xander grabbed his shoulder and yanked him around, causing Spike to nearly drop Fred on her ass. 

“Oi!” Spike yelled, and then saw who it was. “What do you want, whelp?” 

On the other side of the Bronze, the doors opened and Angel walked in brushing past a group of teenagers that passed by as they were leaving. He walked under the stairs to the edge of the dance floor and stopped to watch Spike and Fred dance. His expression turned to one of concern when Xander went up to Spike and pulled him around. 

To Angel, Spike and Fred seemed to be enjoying themselves until Buffy’s white knight appeared. His boy always looked good when he moved, whether it was in battle or dancing. Spike carried a grace that was more inborn than learned. Angel never grew tired of watching his mate move. The concern came when Xander turned Spike around, causing him to nearly drop Fred. 

On the dance floor, Spike kept his body between Fred and Xander. However, the boy paid no mind to Spike’s guardian stance. He reached around him, grabbing Fred’s arm and pulled her away from the vampire. She tried to free herself and go back to Spike, but Xander just tightened his grip. 

“Let go of me!” Fred said apprehensively. She glared at the man holding her arm and glanced at Spike. 

“Unhand her, Xander,” Spike said. He had always had nicknames for the boy, but messing with someone he considered to be family was a serious offense. 

“I’m protecting her from you,” Xander said angrily. 

“How do you know she needs help?” Spike asked as his brow furrowed in irritation. 

“I don’t need protecting,” Fred said as she tried again to free herself. 

Spike grabbed Fred’s other arm and yanked her to him, forcing her to collide into his chest. Xander pulled her back towards himself. Fred was beginning to feel like a rag doll. 

“I don’t know who you are! Let me go!” Fred said in annoyance as she yanked herself free when Xander relaxed his grip. She moved under Spike’s arm as he hugged her to him. 

Willow watched the exchange, not sure if Xander was doing the right thing. His actions seemed to be misinterpreted. Feeling the need to defend Xander, she made her way over in time to hear Fred’s comment. “But sweetie, we know him,” Willow said, gesturing towards Spike. “He is dangerous!” 

Fred looked at her, then back at Xander. She recognized the girl as the one who was at the hotel when they came back from Pylea. However, that didn’t placate her temper. “So you think you can just accost perfect strangers? I mean, I know Spike. He’s a gentleman.” That got a smirk from said vampire. “He’s a champion who always looks out for me.” 

Xander looked aghast at Fred then turned to Willow. “I think he’s brainwashed her, Wills.” He glared at Spike. “Did you do some sort of spell on her, evil undead?” 

“He’s not evil!” Fred said. 

“Hey!” Spike said indignantly. 

Fred gave him a small smile. “Okay, so he’s evil, but he’s not _evil_!” 

“Speak for yourself,” Spike said, thumping his chest. “I’m the Big Bad.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Kind of need my reputation in Sunnydale, pet.” 

Xander grabbed Fred again and yanked her to him. Spike’s eyes turned yellow, though his face didn’t change. Not only was this becoming tedious, but Xander was pissing him off. If the lackbrain hurt Fred, then he was in for a right and proper ass-kicking. 

“Stop manhandling her like she’s your favorite toy, whelp,” Spike bit out. He yanked her back behind him and glared at Xander daring him to try it again. 

“When you stop holding her hostage,” Xander shot back. 

“I am no hostage,” Fred corrected. “Don’t call me a hostage and don’t touch me!” She narrowly escaped Xander’s grabby hands. “Who are you anyway? Leave me alone!” 

Angel appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Xander’s outstretched hand in a crushing grip. “Touch her again, Xander and it will be the last thing you do. What do you think you’re doing with a valued member of my team anyway?” 

Without warning and much to Spike and Angel’s surprise, Fred pulled back and punched Xander in the nose. He immediately reached for his sore nose as Fred harrumphed. 

“Whoa girl, you really pack a punch,” Spike said impressed. He turned and glowered at Angel. “What are you doing here, ponce?” 

“I came to take Fred home. What are you doing here?” Angel said. 

“I live here remember. You saw to that!” Spike said irritably. 

“I didn’t mean in Sunnydale, you insolent little – I meant in the Bronze,” Angel said heatedly. 

“Showing Fred a good time,” Spike replied. He looked at Angel speculatively. “Did you go blind when you got hit over the head? What does it look like I’m doing?” 

“So, showing Fred a good time means making yourselves conspicuous on the dance floor and allowing her to be manhandled by . . . _that_ ,” Angel said in disgust, pointing at Xander. 

“Yeah, well, we were doing fine until the polky little puppy over there decided to be aggressive with her,” Spike said defensively. “You know what? I don’t have to tell you a soddin’ thing! You didn’t want me in L.A. and I don’t want you here!” 

Angel was taken aback by Spike’s comment. “I didn’t want you in L.A.?” he asked incredulously. “Of course I want you in L.A.! Nothing has changed. We can still see each other.” 

Spike looked at him as if he didn’t recognize him. “Is that right? Well, as you can see I’m kind of busy _bonding_ ,” Spike jabbed Xander in the gut so hard that the human doubled over, “with the Scoobies.” 

Angel glared at his mate, hoping that Spike was only trying to push his buttons. There was no way his boy would be attracted to likes of Xander Harris. Please, whoever was watching . . . the Powers . . . anyone . . . Spike is not attracted to the human. 

Fred looked accusingly at Angel with her hands on her hips. Spike found it cute that she was trying to stand up for him against his hulk of a Sire. Fred was a small petite girl with Angel nearly a foot taller than her and she was staring him down. It was a priceless image. 

“I can’t believe you!” She was saying. “You sent Spike away from us to be with these people? He doesn’t fit in here. He should be with us, his _friends_ , Angel.” 

“Fred, I --” Angel started say and closed his mouth. 

“Spike has friends?” Xander cut in. 

Fred turned and scowled at the boy. “I don’t know who you are, but that won’t stop me from hitting you again if you say one more disparaging remark about Spike.” 

Angel looked between Spike’s angry glare, Fred’s annoyed expression, and the Scoobies’ curious expressions. “Why am I always in the wrong here? Look, let us go back to the mansion. _We_ need to talk,” he said pointedly at Spike and then looked at Fred, “And you need to go back and see your parents, Fred.” 

“But, I don’t wanna . . . It would all be real then, if I saw them. It would no longer be a nightmare, a five year nightmare yes, but my parents? They’re real. You’re gonna take me back? ’Cause I will tell the others how they treat Spike here. Cordy is gonna be so mad!” 

“Wait, Cordelia is one of Spike’s friends?” Xander asked perplexed. “How the hell did that happen?” 

The two vampires and Fred ignored him as they were caught up in their own issue at the moment. The other Scoobies were riveted to the scene like watching a car wreck. 

“So that is why you’re here, to force Fred back to L.A.?” Spike charged. “You _forced_ me to be here and then just _demand_ that Fred go back to L.A. Where the bloody hell do you get off, Angel?” 

“I’m trying to do what is best,” Angel growled defensively. “As for Fred, she needs to see her parents. Confront whatever it is that made her come here and deal with it.” 

“The hell you say,” Spike yelled. “You’re not doing what’s best. You’re moving us around like chess pieces, no matter what we want!” 

“Damn it, Spike!” Angel growled and moved closer until he towered over the blonde vampire. “Why do you have to make this difficult?” 

The question was a near whisper. Fred was sure she was the only one that heard it because she was stuck between them. She also felt things press against her abdomen that she knew she probably shouldn’t be feeling at all. 

“Fine, I’ll make it easy,” Spike whispered. He stepped back and walked around Angel. “Sod off!” Yanking Fred behind him, he headed out of the Bronze. “Come on, Fred. I suddenly feel the need for fresh air.” As he walked away with Fred in tow, he grumbled, “Soddin’ prick thinks he can dictate everyone’s lives around him. He and the Slayer are exactly the same in that respect. **_The world revolves around them!_** ” 

“I heard that!” Angel yelled behind them. 

“You were supposed to!” Spike yelled back over his shoulder. He cuddled Fred to his side as he walked out the door, teasing her, “I would rather be protecting you anyway.” 

Angel watched Spike walk out of the Bronze with Fred and then heard the sound of Spike’s car roaring away. 

Xander stepped up beside him and asked flippantly, “So this Fred girl is a pawn in your lover’s spat?” 

Angel turned his head and frowned at Xander. “Shut up.” 

“Look, I t-t-think we should let them sort it out for them-s-s-selves,” Tara said. 

Angel clapped Xander on the back and then tightened his grip on Xander’s shoulder, causing him to wince. “Hey, what do you know, a Scoobie with some common sense?” Then addressed Xander, “You could learn a lot from her, mindless wonder.” With that, Angel walked away and left the group staring after him as he disappeared into the crowd. 

“What do you think he’ll do?” Willow asked. 

“With the way those two were acting, they’ll be in bed when he catches up with Spike,” Anya said nonchalantly. 

“Oh my God, I so do not want to hear that. The images are frying my brain!” Xander protested as he shook his head. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike had taken Fred and sped back to the mansion. Whatever was going on, Angel better have a good reason for trying to take Fred back to L.A. after she had fled to Sunnydale to get away from . . . whatever it was with her parents. Spike had a general idea of what happened with Fred, but wanted to be sure. 

Once Spike got her into the house, he set her down on the couch and crouched down in front of her. “Okay pet, ’S time to come clean. Why are you really here? Why did Angel follow you here?” 

Tears formed in her eyes, glistening in the lamp light as they slowly fell down her cheeks. “You promised everything would be okay. But then you didn’t come back and they came for me. It’s all gone downhill since you left. Why did you leave? I thought you were happy with us?” 

“I was, pet,” Spike assured her in a quiet brotherly voice. “I liked being around you. But there are times when things happen that are beyond our control. The Slayer came back and I had an obligation to her. Angel, great brooding pillock that he is, made her my obligation. Once she’s back to her old self, I was coming back to L.A.” 

Fred hiccupped as more tears escaped her sad puppy dog eyes. “It’s my parents. They know I’m in L.A. and came looking for me.” 

Spike gave her a small genuine smile. “And that’s a problem how, pet?” 

“They don’t know what happened to me,” Fred cried. “I haven’t been in touch with them for five years . . . How do I explain . . .?” 

“Do they love you?” Spike asked. 

“Of course,” Fred said as if it was something obvious that Spike should have known. “We were a close family.” 

Spike reached up and wiped her tears away with his thumb. “Then, it won’t matter. They will be so happy to see you safe and well, they’ll just have the wonderful reunion and all that rot. Go back with Angel, pet. Let them know you’re okay at least. You’ll see.” 

Fred reached out and caressed Spike’s cheek. Leaning closer, she brushed her lips softly over his. The move surprised him so much that he allowed it for several long seconds before pulling away. 

“What was that for?” he asked in a husky voice. 

“For being there and understanding,” she replied. 

The moment was broken when the front door opened and slammed closed. Footsteps could be heard as someone stomped through the house. 

Looking behind her warily, Fred said, “It sounds like a herd of stampeding bulls.” 

Spike chuckled at her observation. “That would be Angel. Something has his knickers in a twist.” 

Angel stormed into the living room already on a rant. “Okay, you little punk, we’re going to have this out right now. What the hell was that with Xander?” 

Spike raised a brow at that as he stood up to confront his mate. “Fred’s having a crisis and you’re worried about monkey boy? How typical . . .” 

“I mean, it’s _Xander_ ,” Angel cringed at the idea. “He’s not even a washed out imitation of me! Why would you touch him at all?” 

“Would you forget about Xander!” Spike yelled over Angel’s tirade. “Fred needs to know what is happening in L.A with her parents.” 

Angel was still going. “But Xander’s a fat, little mama’s boy. He wouldn’t know how to tie his shoes without Buffy there to supervise.” 

Spike growled and moved closer to Angel. “I’m not with anyone you overgrown ape! Even if I was, it wouldn’t be Xander. Now _focus_ on the task at hand!” 

Angel’s eyes blazed with lust, for Spike, for blood, for the idea of killing Xander, for Spike even considering it. “I let you of my sight for a couple of days and already you are moving on . . . **_to Xander_**!” 

Spike sighed irritably. “You really aren’t listening at all, are you?” 

He pulled Fred up and held her close as she watched Angel’s reaction. She knew how much it hurt Angel when he sent Spike back. There must be something she could do for them both. Her thoughts were sidelined when she heard the next thing out of Spike’s mouth. 

“Fred and I decided to get hitched. We’re going to Vegas,” Spike said casually. 

“We did?” Fred asked confused. “We are?” 

“Over my dusted body,” Angel hissed. 

“Could be arranged, pouf,” Spike replied. Then, he goaded Angel with, “Talk about mixed signals! Angel, do you ever say, or act on, what you really want?” 

“I explained what was going on, but you don’t accept it!” Angel snapped. 

“‘Go back to Sunnydale after you’ve settled in L.A. with me’ doesn’t really help mate,” Spike shot back. 

“What do you want from me?” Angel asked, exasperated as he moved closer to Spike. 

“I want you to stop yanking me back and forth like a rubber ball,” Spike retorted. 

His body betrayed him by immediately responding to his mate’s proximity. All he wanted to do was tear Angel’s clothes off and ease the pent up tension building in his groin. He didn’t care if Fred was there to watch. He took a deep breath to try to calm his body down. Blinking to see past the haze of lust, he caught the mirrored look in Angel’s eyes. 

“Spike, I--” 

“I could go to Vegas. Learn to play blackjack. Memorize four hundred and fifty-two consecutive digits of pi, a few hundred measly cards are easy,” Fred said, cutting Angel off. Both vampires looked at her. 

“Oh no, you’re not,” Angel said. 

“You’re going back to LA and confront your parents,” Spike added. 

Angel looked at Spike with surprise. “ _Now_ you agree that she’s going back?” 

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I didn’t know the whole thing before, did I?” 

“Nine, ten, jack, queen, king,” Fred said to herself. 

“Fred, stop it. You’re going back to L.A. with me,” Angel said. 

“Not unless Spike goes back with us,” Fred pouted. 

“He can’t go --” Angel started to say. 

“Okay, pet, I’ll go back long enough for you to see your parents, but I can’t stay,” Spike said to placate her. He could never stomach a pouting female. Fred grinned. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel pulled up into his normal parking space, got out and leaned on the car to wait for Spike. He had offered to take his car and drive back, but Spike wouldn’t agree to it. Instead, his mate would rather take his own car and Fred insisted on riding with him. It had only been a few days since they’d been separated and being in Spike’s presence again pulled at him. The mate claim tugged. Angel was embarrassed that Fred felt his reaction to Spike in the Bronze. 

That train of thought brought Buffy to mind. Why wasn’t she there with the Scoobies? With everything that was going on between him and Spike and getting Fred back home where she belonged, he never thought to ask about Buffy. Maybe his priorities were shifting. Even so, she still needed help to re-acclimate to the world around her. Spike still needed to be there. 

The thing with Xander still bothered him. What was the deal with that anyway? Spike said he wasn’t with anyone, but Angel knew what he saw when Xander looked at his boy. There was something there. Maybe it was Xander’s wishful thinking. Angel couldn’t see anything happening there, what with Xander's hatred of vampires and Spike’s hatred for Xander. There was a mutual hatred right? Maybe that was _his_ wishful thinking. 

A few months – even weeks – ago, they were happy. At least, he thought they were. Was Buffy returning the last straw? He was never good at relationships. Look at how the relationship with her ended and the relationship with Darla. Why did he think Spike would be different? 

He always thought he was doing the right thing . . . always sure it was for the greater good, but what seemed to happen? He hurt himself and his partner as a result. He thought he was putting his own needs second, but was he doing that to his mate as well? 

“Angel?” 

. . . 

“Angel!” 

He refocused his eyes to see Fred standing in front of him. 

“You looked like you spaced out,” she said. 

Angel rubbed his palm over his face. “I’m fine.” 

“Just brooding like normal,” Spike added. 

Angel turned and looked at Spike. His gut clenched at the sight of the blonde standing there. His high cheekbones looked like razor blades in the moonlight. He wanted to reach out and run his finger over the edge to see if it sliced through. Two years of intimacy and they were estranged now. He had no right to touch Spike. 

“Well, if you’re done, maybe we can get this show on the road. Wouldn’t want Buffy to feel neglected and all,” Spike said sarcastically. 

“Spike . . .” 

“Just drop it Angel. I know my place and how little what I want means,” Spike cut him off. 

Angel frowned as he slid off the hood of his car and moved towards the door. It was time to get Fred back to her family. At least Spike had come back with them, but Angel suspected that was more for Fred than to be with him. 

The furrow of his brow deepened when he heard Spike ask Fred, “So, luv, are you going to introduce me as your gorgeously seductive boyfriend?” 

Fred blushed at that as Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked with her into the hotel. Angel followed, jaw ticking in frustration as he listened to Spike tease Fred. He must be in hell. 

Angel wondered what he was doing to himself. First, there was the whole scene with Xander Harris – of all people – and now the flirting with Fred. Spike had to know the effect it was having on Angel. He really didn’t think he could take much more. But, if Spike was in Sunnydale and he was in L.A., how could he know what Spike was up to? 

Trish’s cry of “Fred!” when he entered the hotel pulled Angel out of his thoughts. 

“Mama? No! You’re not here,” Fred said, too fearful to believe that it was true. 

“Fred, honey, it’s us!” Trish said again. 

“No. You’re not them. You can’t be them, because they don’t know.” Fred shook her head and took a step back, plastering herself against Spike. He grabbed her shoulders for support and gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

“Sweetie, it’s mom and dad,” Roger said. 

“Fred, you knew this was coming,” Spike said near her ear. “They are right there. If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be able to see them.” 

Fred turned and looked at Spike. “They can’t really be here. It’s a dream. If I wake up, maybe . . . maybe I’m still in Sunnydale waiting for you and I fell asleep. Maybe I didn’t leave at all and you being here is a dream?” 

“Fred, stop. They’re here. I’m here. This isn’t a dream,” Spike said. 

“Honey, don’t you remember us?” Trish asked, concerned that her daughter may have amnesia. 

Spike smiled at the worried mother, so like his own. He shivered, not wanting his own memories to engulf him. He pulled Fred to him, curious to know she was denying her parents after all this time. 

“Fred, luv, what is wrong? What does seeing your mom and dad mean?” Spike asked as he took her face in a gentle hand, lifting the frightened face to look at him. “Why are you so sure that everything is a dream?” 

Fred looked at Spike. His concerned eyes made her feel weak, broke her defenses. “If they are really here and all of you are, then Pylea and the horrors there are too.” She turned to face her parents, starting to cry. “I was – I was, five years and so lost and, and at night I would . . . I was all by myself and you weren’t there!” 

“Fred, I don’t understand,” Roger said apprehensively. 

“I got lost. I got lost and they did terrible things to me, but – but it was just a storybook. It was just a story with monsters, not real.” She kept shaking her head, trying to deny that Pylea didn’t happen. “Not in the world but – but if you’re here and you see me then – then, it’s real! And it did happen! If you saw what they made of me . . . I – I didn’t mean to get so lost!” 

Crying also, Trish cautiously stepped forward and took Fred’s face into her hands. “Oh honey, it doesn’t matter what they did to you.” 

“Mommy,” Fred cried as Trish hugged her. 

“Oh, we’re gonna make it all right,” Trish said soothingly. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I got so lost,” Fred repeated. 

“It don’t matter,” Roger said as he moved closer to his wife and daughter. “You’re our little girl.” 

“I missed you so much. I didn’t mean to . . .” 

“Shh . . .” Trish soothed. 

“Everything’s okay now. You’ll see. You’re safe now,” Roger said. 

Fred pulled away when she saw the Durslar’s head on the edge of the reception desk. It had some pretty crystals stuck to its side. 

“Where did that come from?” she asked as she wiped her eyes and walked over to it. 

“Uh, I killed it in a sewer after tracking it from an ice cream shop,” Angel replied. 

“I think Angel called it a Durslar beast,” Cordelia added. 

Fred touched the crystals with her finger. 

Trish shuddered. “I wish he hadn’t brought that thing out again. It gives me the willies.” 

“Oh, don’t be silly Trish. It’s just a severed head,” Roger said casually. 

Gunn picked the head up to move it out of Trish’s sight. “I got it. The lady is afraid of a papier-mâché head. Ha. Women!” He set it down on the other end of the reception desk, beside Angel. 

“Uh, Gunn, you _do_ know it’s not papier-mâché?” Angel asked humorously. 

Gunn quickly took his hands off the head. “We still got that bleach in the bathroom?” 

Angel nodded. 

“Yeah, just don’t bleach too much. That Michael Jackson disease wouldn’t look too good on you,” Spike quipped as Gunn ran to the bathroom. 

He, Angel, and Wesley watched the Burkles fuss over Fred when Angel commented, “I got to say this is not how I pictured this turning out.” 

“Well, you always did try to see the worst in people,” Spike said. 

“They look happy, don’t they?” Wesley asked. 

“I told Fred they would be,” Spike said. 

Fred walked over to them and leaned on the counter. 

“How does it feel, Fred?” Wesley asked. 

Fred looked squeamish. “Like my heart’s been put in one of those orange juice squeezers.” 

“At least they brought you back to us,” Trish said. 

“It’s what they do, mama. Angel’s the champion, Wesley’s the brains of the operation, Gunn’s the muscle, Cordy’s the heart, and Spike . . . Spike’s the one who’s there to look out for us!” Fred smiled. “You can look for Spike to have your back . . . even if he does like a verbal battle.” 

“Hey, what did we say about my reputation, luv?” Spike asked resentfully. “You’re ruining my image here.” 

Fred lifted her hand to touch Spike’s cheek. “Your rep is good here, Spike.” 

“You keep going on about how sweet you think I am, and the demons will think I’m as fluffy as Angel,” Spike grumbled. 

“Oh, gawd forbid!” Wesley exclaimed, rolling his eyes. 

“What’s wrong with my rep? I do the fighting! I do _lots_ of fighting. I take down demons and vampires,” Angel said, indignantly. 

Spike looked at him skeptically and said sarcastically, “You can’t be serious. Is that all you do?” 

“And to think, we were wondering when to call the cops on a bunch of superheroes!” Roger boasted. 

Angel ducked his head. “I’m not really a hero.” 

“More like blood-sucking fiend,” Gunn commented. 

“I don’t think he was talking about you,” Spike smirked. “Maybe he meant me. She did show up on my doorstep, after all.” 

“I have a seer,” Angel said defensively, looking at Cordelia. “I help the helpless, save the hopeless . . .” 

“And you are hopeless,” Spike added to which Angel glared at him. 

“Frankly, Angel, I don’t care if you drink pig’s blood, cow’s blood, or those froofy, little imported beers. You saved my little girl,” Roger said. 

Spike scoffed. “She runs to me and Angel gets props for saving her.” 

Leaving Angel and Spike to bicker, Fred went back to her parents. She was used to the vampires squabbling and felt she needed to talk with her family. They went over and sat on the stairs to the back entrance for privacy. 

“I want to go home now. I kind of feel that I don’t have anything to give here,” Fred admitted. “Maybe, despite disappearing to another dimension for five years, I might have a chance at a normal life, y’know?” 

“Oh honey, that’s great,” Trish said happily. “Your father and I can help you with that. We’re so pleased you want to come home.” 

“And as soon as the rent is up on your room in a month, you can have your old room back,” Roger said offhandedly. 

Fred gaped at her father. “You rented out my room?” 

Roger shrugged. “Well, honey, after the fourth year of not knowing what happened . . .” 

A large figure burst through the door. It looked like an insect, but magnified to the nth degree and seemed very angry. It was in full attack mode as it charged at the group of people in its path. Angel and Spike jumped over the reception desk as Wesley went around it, heading for the weapons cabinet. The vampires tried their best to incapacitate it, but found themselves thrown to one side. The rest of the team stocked up on weapons. 

Fred watched from the shadows where she sat with her family. She saw the Durslar’s head bubble and contort and had an idea of what was going on. She dodged one of the insect’s arms as she raced to the contraption she had made. Stomping on a lever, she released the battle axe. It sailed through the air and split the Durslar’s head open. Green goop spattered the wall and a bunch of little cockroaches crawled free of it. 

The bug left the team alone and went to collect the head. It left the hotel with little bugs following after it. 

Gunn watched the bug leave and looked down at the contraption. “So _not_ a toaster?” 

Angel looked surprised at Fred. “How did you . . .?” 

“The crystals were its territorial marking. It must have laid its eggs in the Durslar’s head, which would explain the Durslar coming up out of the sewer, ’cause, I mean, wouldn’t you be a little crazy if you had eggs in your head? I know I would.” Fred explained. “That would have been fine, but you killed the Durslar and brought the head back. So, the bug had to track him down to get its babies back.” 

“Brilliant deduction, Fred,” Wesley said impressed. 

“Not to mention, that little axe gadget is tight,” Gunn said. 

Fred laughed. “That was just a random thought I had. What if you had to do battle with your arms cut off? Sure, you’d hemorrhage to death pretty quick, but at least you could take your enemy with you!” 

“Nice going, Fred,” Angel said. 

“My little gadget girl,” Spike smirked. 

“Aw, it was nothing,” Fred said, waving the compliments away. “Just a stunning revelation of my true path in life, that’s all.” 

“Come again?” Roger asked. 

“I can’t go home. I’m not normal anymore. I miss you both so bad. But, I belong here,” Fred said. Her self-consciousness got the better of her and she turned to the team. “Unless, I don’t. Which if – if y’all don’t want me . . .” 

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Wesley suggested. “All in favor say aye. Aye! Motion passed? Good. You’re staying.” 

Fred smiled at him then addressed her parents. “Mama. Daddy. This is my life now.” 

“We were hoping you wouldn’t figure that out,” Trish laughed through tears. 

“Of course we’d have to stick around for another couple of weeks,” Roger said thoughtfully. 

“Daddy!” Fred smiled. 

Spike saw the happy reunion. He had promised Fred that he’d stay for as long as it took to settle with her parents. Now that she had and was part of the team, he figured it was time to go back to Sunnydale. While Fred was occupied with hugging her parents goodbye Spike slipped out the back and headed for the car. 

Angel caught up with him just as he opened the car door to get in. 

“Spike,” Angel called out as he moved closer. Spike stopped and waited. “Thanks . . . for Fred. I didn’t ask you to do that, but you did and . . . thanks.” 

“Don’t need your thanks,” Spike said irritably. “Did it for Fred, not you.” 

“Right,” Angel agreed sadly. “For Fred.” 

“What, you don’t believe me?” Spike asked incredulously. “Oh yeah! _Everything_ has to be about Angel, doesn’t it?” His grip tightened on the car door as he became angrier. “Well, Newsflash: No it doesn’t. Other people matter too. Like Fred.” 

“I know. I had just hoped a small part of it was . . .” Angel trailed off. He squared his shoulders and sighed, “Never mind, I know you have to get back. I’ll just . . .” 

Spike nodded once. “Right, never mind. Okay, so I’m going back to _Sunnydale_ to watch over your ‘ _first love_ ’.” 

Angel growled at the reminder of what he assigned for Spike. “It’s _not_ like that damn it.” 

“Oh, _really_?” Spike bit out as he leaned on the door. “So, you gave me that time of being happy with you and the rest of the team because it was what, _convenient_?” The sarcasm Spike used to mask the pain he felt, chafed Angel’s nerves. “So, it’s not like that, huh? I was happy! I finally started feeling like I meant something. After you just disappeared to some other dimension, with no word or explanation . . . I got nothing, Angel. Then, when you found out Buffy was back, you _banished_ me again!” 

“You’re not banished!” Angel yelled over Spike’s rant. “The hotel is as much your home as mine. But, Buffy needs help until she feels like herself again.” He looked out at the gardens, saying softly, “Crawling out of your own grave is a bit disorienting.” 

“Yeah, ’cause we would understand, being vampires?” Spike shot back angrily. “I don’t think so. I really don’t think being ‘welcomed’ as part of a vampire family is what Buffy has gone through.” 

“I’m trying to do what’s best for all involved,” Angel said defensively. “Would you rather she flounder and get herself or her friends killed? Being _soulless_ , that may not matter to you. But, knowing that I could have stopped it from happening somehow . . . My soul couldn’t take that.” 

“So, _I’m_ the one sent to Sunnydale to protect people who hate me because _your_ soul couldn’t take it. Thanks mate!” With that, Spike got behind the wheel, shut the door and started the car. 

“Spike . . .” Angel called out. 

Spike waved out the window as he drove away, leaving his Sire to stare at his taillights. 

Angel sighed dejectedly and dragged his feet as he walked back into the hotel. How had it all gone so badly? Did Spike care nothing about him anymore? Was there nothing left? 

Cordelia looked up to see a forlorn Angel walk back into the happy atmosphere everyone else was enjoying. Fred had her parents back and wasn’t leaving. Wesley was overjoyed. Gunn was ecstatic, still playing with the axe-throwing gadget Fred had made. 

Cordelia went over just as Angel shuffled down the steps. “Where’s Spike?” 

“He went back to Sunnydale,” Angel replied as he sat down heavily on the stairs. 

Cordelia sat beside him. “Why? I don’t understand. Surely he would stay here longer with us.” 

“Buffy needs him,” Angel said. When Cordelia gave him a skeptical look, he sighed again. “Don’t ask me to explain.” 

Roger walked up to Angel and asked, “What is it about you and this Spike guy? You two not gettin’ on?” 

“It’s just . . .” Angel started to explain and then shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

Roger nodded. “I understand that no matter how hard you try, you have to let loved ones do their own thing. Even if it turns out bad, you just have to wait and be there to support them.” 

“It isn’t like that,” Fred said as she moved closer. “See, Angel sent Spike away to help someone Angel used to care about. Spike thinks he cares about her more than him.” 

“So, why would you send him away?” Trish asked. 

Angel looked at his feet forlornly. “This girl, she’s important. Not to me, not anymore. But, she has stuff she has to protect . . .” he sighed, “Oh, you wouldn’t understand.” 

“Well, we can’t unless you tell us more,” Roger said matter-of-factly. 

“I really don’t think I can,” Angel replied, feeling miserable. “I totally messed up. Buffy hates me for not supporting her more. Spike hates me for sending him away. I don’t think anyone understands me, and I . . . I can’t explain myself. I’m not sure of what I’m doing. Everything seems to be slipping away from me. I need time to think.” 

Wesley looked around at the assembled team and Fred’s parents. “I think we need to give Angel space to work this out. He has been busy and hasn’t had time to really see what is going on,” he said with the English stiff upper lip that Gunn was beginning to hate. 

“No, Wesley,” Cordelia disagreed. “He needs to talk! That’s the problem, he keeps everything inside. We can help him work it out.” 

“Angel is over two hundred years old, Cordelia. Talking to Dr. Phil is not an option!” Wesley countered. 

“Hey, I’m Cordelia Chase! I can make him talk!” she said. 

**************************

Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Fred had paint rollers in their hands and were painting over the walls in Fred’s room. Roger and Trish had paintbrushes touching up the wood pane. 

“Now, Spiro Agnew, I _know_ he was . . .” Roger started to say. 

“A Grathnar demon,” Angel finished. “You knew that? I thought I was the only one that knew that.” 

“What else would he be but a demon?” Roger shrugged. 

Wesley and Gunn were bickering over the best way to paint a wall: Wesley voting for vertical, Gunn on the side of horizontal when Cordelia walked in with two pizza boxes. 

“Did someone order pizza?” she asked no one in particular. She looked over at Angel. “I told you this was the best therapy. The paint fumes will clear your head . . .” 

“I don’t breathe,” Angel reminded her. 

“Figuratively speaking,” she added. 

Fred smiled at Angel and then looked at the line drawing of two people on top of a horse. She lifted her roller and painted over it. She loved Angel dearly, but the daydreams were over. Whether he or Spike wanted to admit it or not, they belonged to each other. She would do anything to see them together again.


	12. Chapter 39-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 39-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 6)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel was in his basement training area teaching Cordelia some defensive maneuvers with a sword. He stood behind her, leaning close. 

“Don’t stiffen up,” Angel instructed. 

Cordelia nodded and raised the sword in her hands as they began to move through the exercise with Angel guiding her movements. 

“All right, a good defense is about moving the line of attack. When the other guy comes at you, you want to step off the line,” he explained. Angel used his hands to direct her into another position. “Like this.” He jumped back to avoid the point of her sword. “Creating a new one, every time you do, your opponent will be forced to adjust. Always make the other guy work.” 

Cordelia nodded. “Okay. Move the line. Then what?” 

Angel picked up another sword. “Then – just keep moving the line. You’ll be able to keep an attacker busy until . . . you know.” 

“What?” Cordelia looked at him skeptically. “Until he dies of old age or until _you_ and Spike swoop in to save me?” 

She had been doing that a lot lately. Every time she mentioned Spike, Angel’s eyes lit up as if expecting to see the blonde vampire and then would cloud over. She would pointedly say Spike’s name in her own subtle way. Not because she wanted Angel to . . . okay, yeah. She wanted him to feel guilty and shamed. There was no excuse for what he had done to Spike. 

When Angel’s features became a dark mask of anguish, Cordelia sighed. “Angel, I didn’t ask you to train me so I could stave. I already know how to stave. _Now_ , I need to learn to fight!” 

Angel frowned and gripped the gripped the hilt of his sword. “You don’t think that I would?” 

Cordelia glanced over. “Would what?” 

“Save you.” 

“The men-folk not always around to protect the women-folk, you know?” she said patronizingly, pointing her sword at him. “Besides, what if it turned out _you_ was the guy I had to fight. It _could_ happen.” 

Angel knew she was right. He also knew a jab when it was aimed his way. Cordelia and Fred both reminded him nearly every hour that he had fucked things up with Spike. He tried to fix it by contacting Spike through the link they shared, but Spike ignored him. Fred noticed his mood change to Spike’s not being there whereas Cordelia noticed the effect that a lack of sex on a regular basis had on his temperament. 

“Okay.” Angel raised his sword and shifted into fighting stance beside Cordelia and she copied his movements. “When you put an adversary down, you want to make sure that he doesn’t get up again. So, like I showed you . . .” They moved through an exercise parallel to each other. “Force the other guy to counter and he’ll open himself up to something like this. We’ll go half-speed until . . .” 

“No need, I got it. Three years of Varsity Cheer Squad, I only had to be shown a move once.” 

Angel smirked. “You know, Cordelia, handling a lethal weapon is a _little_ different from shaking a pom-pom.” 

Cordelia ignored him. “Ready. Okay!” She came at Angel with the sword full-speed, forcing him to backtrack across the basement to avoid the sword. The maneuver ended with him up against the wall and her sword inches away from his throat. 

“Easy,” Angel laughed nervously. “Go team.” 

Cordelia looked at him. “Are you going to talk to Spike and apologize to him?” 

“Cordy,” he whined as he inched away from the sword. He didn’t want to talk about Spike. That’s why he was training her, to distract himself from thoughts of Spike. 

She dropped the weapon to her side and watched him. “How hard can it be to call him up and say: ‘I’m sorry I messed up, come home’?” 

“I can’t, Buffy needs him,” Angel mumbled. 

“Buffy needs him?” Cordelia repeated in disbelief. “What about _you_? What about _us_? What if _we_ need him?” 

“You think I like feeling this way? That I don’t feel it every second he and I are apart? Do you know the gut-wrenching pain I feel from having _my mate_ two hours away?” Angel sat down on the stairs, holding his sword upright between his legs. “Besides, he hates me right now. I’ve tried to use the link to talk to him and he ignores me. So, I don’t think picking up the phone will help matters.” 

Cordelia sat beside him. “How do you know if you don’t try? I know you still care about Buffy. You probably always will. But, I’ve known you for a while now and Fred isn’t the only one that’s noticed it. I’ve seen how you and Spike are around each other. If you’re in the same room, you stalk each other with your eyes when the other isn’t looking. When you’re apart, you’re always looking around for signs of his presence.” 

Angel rested his forehead against the handle of the sword. The more Cordelia talked, the more he missed Spike. The hotel seemed empty without his energy to liven it up. The place had become a giant, empty tomb with echoes of Spike. His king size bed – chosen to replace the one he had when he first moved in because he shared it with Spike – was cold and lonely. The Jacuzzi shower was strictly used as a shower now. He didn’t bother with the jets. Comfort was a luxury he felt he could no longer afford. Instead, he stayed up at night, looking out the window and sleeping in his wing-back chair during the day. 

“Buffy is going to be the Slayer no matter what happens to her. Five years from now, ten years, it won’t matter. Are you just going to force Spike to remain with her until she dies of old age? You can’t protect her from everything and you can’t compel Spike to. He wants a life, and up to recently, he wanted his life to be with you and people he’s come to care about,” Cordelia said. 

Angel straightened his spine and looked at her. She and Fred meant well. It wasn’t that Buffy would live forever. Personally, he couldn’t be without Spike that long. But, maybe, for a little while, Spike’s presence could help her cope with the world around her. 

“Spike and I have eternity. We have decades – maybe centuries – to be together. One slayer’s life is but a blip in the timeline for us,” Angel reasoned. 

“You and Spike – reluctantly, I’m guessing – are fighting for good. There are many ways to kill vampires. Do you really have that much time?” Cordelia asked as Angel stared at his hands clasped around the sword. “When Buffy died you brought Spike here. At first, I was skeptical, I admit. But, he turned out to be a lot of help. Then, Willow brought Buffy back. What happens if she dies again? Will Willow allow that? She shouldn’t be here now.” 

“I could say the same for myself and Spike,” Angel said in a faraway voice. “We’ve both died and come back. I was in a hell dimension and came back. What’s to say Buffy hasn’t been in one too?” 

Cordelia slapped her hands against her lap, angry at Angel’s denials. She stood up and glared down at him. “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“Doing what?” Angel asked petulantly. 

“Keep talking yourself out of any sort of happiness? You’ve been with Spike for two years! Whatever small amount _perfect happiness_ you felt with Buffy that made you lose your soul, Spike gave you just as much of himself. It may not have been perfect bliss, but it was _something_. You have to _stop_ worrying about everyone else and focus on what’s in front of you. If you don’t care about Spike enough to do that, then cut him loose and let him live his life without you interfering.” 

With that, Cordelia stomped up the stairs and slammed the basement door. Angel grabbed the sword she left behind as well as his and put them away. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

“How long has he been here?” Liliah asked as she walked through the hall with her secretary on her heels. 

“Security brought him in about twenty minutes ago,” her secretary stammered. 

Liliah had a hand on the doorknob to her office when she turned on her secretary, causing the jittery woman to shrink back. “You should have pulled me out of that meeting the minute you heard anything. What about the family?” 

“On their way,” her secretary confirmed. 

Lilah nodded then entered her office only to see Gavin chatting with the Billy, the same man Angel had rescued from the box of fire in the demon dimension to save Cordelia. 

“Lilah,” Gavin greeted dryly. “I was just keeping young Billy here company.” 

Lilah gave him a false smile. “Gee, thanks Gavin. I’ll take it from here.” She turned to the young man and gave him a concerned look. “Billy, your family has been worried sick. Where have you been?” 

“Went for a walk,” Billy replied casually. 

Lilah raised a tweezed brow in disbelief, “A walk for three days?” 

“The boy was feeling cooped up,” Gavin commented. 

Lilah gave him a withering look. “Why don’t you go close an escrow or something?” Then, she focused all her attention on the young man. “You’re not supposed to be out on your own. You remember what happened last time, don’t you? You don’t want to end up in that awful place again, do you?” 

“Well, of course he doesn’t,” Congressman Blim said from the doorway, startling Lilah. “No one wants that.” 

Lilah nodded to the new arrival in greeting, “Congressman.” 

“I trust you managed to stay out of trouble this time, Billy?” Congressman Blim admonished. 

“There was no trouble,” Billy assured him. 

“Let’s go home,” Congressman Blim suggested. He looked at Lilah. “Well, this is the second time you’ve returned our nephew safely to us.” He glanced at Gavin. “Thank you.” 

“Our pleasure,” Gavin said, accepting all of the praise as the Congressman and Billy turned to leave. 

Lilah followed after the Congressman, “Our pleasure in the sense that,” the door closed and she glared at Gavin, “he had nothing to do with it.” 

“Nice boy,” Gavin commented. 

“Billy?” Lilah smirked. “He’s great. He had his own private room in hell. Family connections . . . and oh, by the way, get out!” 

“But, I wasn’t finished,” Gavin protested. 

“No,” Lilah said sarcastically. “You really were. To make myself clear: if you go sniffing around one of _my_ clients again, I think we’re going to have a problem.” 

“You _think_?” Gavin raised a brow. “Who told you that you could _think_? You know, why don’t you try _listening_ once in a while instead of constantly flapping that fat mouth of yours?” 

Lilah laughed bitterly. “You were exactly captain of the debate team, were you, Gavin? At least Lindsey knew how to . . .” 

Her comeback was cut short when Gavin grabbed her by the hair and smashed her into the glass shelves against the far wall. Then, he jumped on top of her, wrapped his hands around her neck and choked her.” 

Hearing the commotion through the closed door, Billy turned and walked down the hall, a smug smile spread slowly across his face. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

It was long past sundown when Spike crawled out of bed still hung over from another drinking binge. Alcohol kept his mind dull and made it easier to ignore Angel’s prodding to acknowledge him. He used the mattress to pull himself to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. 

Making it there by sheer willpower, he immediately turned the shower on steaming hot. He set a dry towel within reach. Then, he undressed and threw the dirty clothes he’d worn and slept in the past twenty-four hours, in the laundry basket and stepped blurry-eyed into the shower. 

Spike leaned forward with his hands on the wall, letting the water pour over his head, shoulders and down his back. The steam woke him up enough to crack his eyes open. When he could make out the blurry image of a bath scrunchy and the soap, he started washing himself. Then, he turned his attention to his hair. 

_Spike?_

He had a good lather of shampoo in his hair when the sound of his name echoed dimly inside his head. 

_Spike!_

The louder tone startled him out of his daze and the soap ran into his eyes. “Fuck!” 

_What? What’s wrong?_

“Your loud mouth caused me to get soap in my eyes, you great lummox,” Spike replied as if Angel was standing in the shower with him. 

_Sorry, what are you doing?_

“I’m taking a bloody shower. What do you want?” Spike asked gruffly. 

_Why have you been ignoring me?_

“Let me count the reasons: Darla, Buffy, Buffy, your foot-in-mouth disease, and oh yeah, _Buffy_. Give me a good reason why I should talk to you,” he said in a bland voice. 

_Spike . . ._

“Get out of my head, Angel.” 

Spike felt the ghost of fingers trailing down his spine. The sensation made him close his eyes. Then, it was gone only to be replaced with the feeling of a hand sliding over his stomach and down to his short hairs. He groaned at the imaginary touch of fingers around his semi-erect shaft. 

“Angel, what do you think you’re doing?” Spike breathed raggedly. 

_Something we were always good at._

Spike squeezed his eyes shut when he suddenly felt Angel fill him completely. It wasn’t forced. His Sire had slipped inside as if he were sliding behind the wheel of his Plymouth, as cool and easy as he pleased. For a moment, Spike ground his teeth in annoyance that Angel was as bold as to try something like this, knowing that he was still upset with him. 

“You’re a bloody bastard, you know that?” Spike growled. 

_But you like me this way. You get off on it when I take what I want._

Spike sucked in a breath at the sensation of his left nipple being pinched and twisted hard. He felt Angel swell inside him, his own erection now painfully hard. 

_It makes you so hard when I possess every part of you. I can feel you, baby boy, so goddamn hard. Even now, I can feel the arousal building inside you._

His Sire’s words were a whisper inside his mind and he could imagine feeling Angel’s cool breath against his ear. Spike’s balls tightened up as he felt his mate’s intense passion wash through him. 

“I soddin’ well hate you, Angelus,” Spike hissed through clenched teeth. 

_Hate me all you want, William. That doesn’t change what I can do to you. I can make you beg._

“Not likely,” Spike scoffed as he tried to stem his arousal from Angel’s insistent touch inside him. 

It made it hard for Spike to resist. Angel filled every pore. The younger vampire tried to ignore his reaction. His Sire was evil personified. When he realized Spike wouldn’t talk to him, even through the link, he apparently tried the underhanded tactic of sex. Once Spike was clearheaded, Angel snuck in and blanketed him with overwhelming stimulation so that he wouldn’t or couldn’t object. It was a devious trick and Spike hated him for it. 

_Plead._

“No.” The denial came out on a moan. 

_I’ll keep you on the verge of orgasm until you’re crying real tears for release. Beg me to possess you again. You know you want to._

“In your dreams,” Spike growled as he tried to steel himself against responding to his mate’s seductive tones. 

He let out a guttural noise as arousal overtook his actions and Angel forced him to his knees on the shower floor. His head fell back and a sobbing cry of release escaped his lips as his cock shot creamy ropes of cum onto the shower floor where the spray of water washed it down the drain. He felt Angel wrench the orgasm out of him. He heard his Sire’s growl of triumph as he was left panting from the exertion. 

Spike felt warmth inside him. He sat back against the wall, basking quietly in the afterglow. Angel was still there. He could feel him. Spike kept his eyes closed, wishing for a cigarette to calm his jumbled thoughts. If he was quiet maybe Angel would remain . . . silent? 

There was always something between him and Angel. It consumed his senses when he was near the elder vampire. Something always drew them to each other, even before the mating claim. Angel wasn’t wrong about that. It left him feeling warm and content, at peace, like he knew that was where he belonged. Now, with Angel inside him, portraying a silent, foreboding beast, he felt . . . satisfied. 

Spike tried to ignore Angel’s prodding up to now. He was too pissed to deal with Angel’s reasoning. He’d had enough of Angel’s reasoning for why he sent him to Sunnydale. He was sick of hearing that Buffy was more important than whatever their relationship was turning out to be before it got sidelined for a human and a Slayer on top of that. 

Why the bloody hell did he tell Angel that he felt like he belonged in L.A. with him and the team? Angel obviously didn’t want him there. The minute he opened his heart to his _mate_ , he was shipped back to Sunnydale. _Love’s bitch, that’s me._

_What was that?_

“Nothing. Did you get what you needed out of that?” Spike asked. 

_You needed it too, Spike. To remember how it is between us._

“I know how it is between us, Angel. I tell you how happy I am in L.A. and you send me to Sunnydale for your ‘true love’!” Spike got to his feet and twisted the knobs to shut the water off. Yanking the glass door open, he grabbed a towel. Drying off with angry swipes, he growled, “Don’t ever do anything like that again. That was not only rape, it was rape of my mind, you soulless bastard.” He stepped out of the shower and slammed the door, rattling the glass. 

_How can you say that, I was just trying to show you how much I care_ , Angel said irritably. 

“With cheap imitation, long distance sex,” Spike scoffed. “No Angel, if you wanted to show you cared you would never have let me go.” 

_Spike . . . I just wanted . . ._ Angel trailed off. _And since you won’t answer the phone, thinking it’s me. This is the only way I could talk to you._

“I won’t talk to you on the phone, so you invade my mind instead! You are a total bastard. Get out of my head, Angel. I want nothing to do with you. I’m here as you asked to help Buffy, much as I hate it, you cannot ask any more of me,” Spike said as he got dressed and headed for the kitchen. 

_But, you helped Fred_ , Angel reminded him. 

“Fred was different. She came to me and asked for help. She wasn’t something that was forced on me,” Spike hissed as he grabbed a couple of blood bags from the freezer and threw them in the microwave, punching in the time and START with a little more force than necessary. 

_This is not how I planned on going about this. For one thing, I thought you’d be calmer now_ , Angel brooded. 

“Sounds like your plans are as crap as some of mine,” Spike said as he searched for burba weed in his spice racks. “I want you out of my head. I’m going to get some burba weed. Looks like I’m fresh out. Just get lost, Angel. Go back to your oh-so-perfect life in L.A.!” 

Spike shook his head to make sure he didn’t feel Angel there. Then, he walked out the door, leaving the microwave to do its thing. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Magic Box_**

The shop was filled with customers, including many laughing children. There was a large banner hanging from the rafters that read: HALLOWEEN BONE-ANZA with the letters spelled out in paper bones. The O in BONE was a paper skull. 

Anya moved through the store on roller skates, wearing very short candy-stripped shorts, a red blouse and Farrah Fawcett hair. Addressing a costumer as she rolled by, she said, “Um, everything on this table’s half off, including the table.” She skated past another customer with, “Buy one eyeball, you get the second one free!” 

On the other side of the store, Giles ran the cash register while wearing a wizard’s robe. Xander, dressed as a pirate, was talking to some children as he held a jar. 

“Arr! Careful, me matey! These be fireflies spat from a volcano off the coast of Katmandu. Arr!” he said in a phony pirate accent. 

“You’re not a real pirate!” accused a little boy dressed as a fireman. “Real pirates live on boats and don’t look stupid!” 

Xander gave a fake pirate laugh. “Oh, a salty swabbie! Maybe you be fishin’ for the taste,” he held up his hook, “of me hook!” He shook the hook-hand in the boy’s face and was met with a bored look. 

“Uh, hello, Ahab,” Giles called out. “Little help, please?” 

“Arr, and help ye shall have, arr!” Xander replied in his pirate voice. He gave the fireman-boy a menacing look and walked away, scratching his neck with the hook. 

Anya skated over to Buffy who was carrying a large cardboard box. 

“We’re running low on mandrake root. Check the basement,” Anya said as she skated by. 

“Don’t blame me if we have this conversation over and over . . .” Buffy mumbled to herself as she headed down the basement steps with the box, “And over . . . and over, and over.” 

She reached the bottom and turned to go around them, just as Spike emerged from underneath them. 

“Oh!” she cried in surprise, nearly dropping the box, even as he jumped a little. She glared at him over the top of the box. “Bell, Neck. Look into it.” 

“Come with a nice leather collar, does it?” Spike asked sardonically. “’Cause I’m sure Angel would love that. On top of ordering me around, he can also physically do it, and hey, if you throw in a leash that can stretch between here and the Hyperion, it’ll give him something to yank on when he wants me to go somewhere!” 

“Are you done?” Buffy asked with a raised brow. 

“Oh, not even close, Slayer,” Spike sneered. “I have more where that came from.” 

Buffy let out a put upon sigh. “Why are you lurking down here?” 

Spike let out a sigh of his own, “Came through the tunnels.” He held up a handful of vines. “I’m running low on burba weed. If you stir it in the blood, it makes it all hot and spicy.” 

Buffy cringed at the thought of what he did with the burba weed and blood. She turned away and set the box aside. 

“What? I was going to pay for it,” Spike said petulantly. She gave him a skeptical look as she stepped in front of him with her hands on her hips. Then, he changed his tune, “I mean, no. I was going to nick it, ’cause that’s what I do.” 

Spike sighed. First, he had to answer to that ponce of Sire of his, who took extreme liberties with him in the shower. It gave new meaning to a mind fuck. His Sire was one thing, but he wasn’t going to answer to a soddin’ Slayer. “I go where I please and I take what I want. What’s your excuse anyway?” He nodded towards the stairs. “I thought you’d had it to the brim with costumer disservice.” 

Buffy raised a brow. “One-time deal to help out and I mean straight time. No loop-de-loop mummy hand repeat-o-vision.” Spike nodded in understanding. Buffy looked around, embarrassed. “Where’s the mandrake root?” 

Spike looked around and moved towards a shelf covered with jars. “Um . . . here.” He took down a jar and handed it to her. “There’s only three to a jar. They tend to . . . go a bit wonky if you cram them too close.” 

“Thanks,” she took the jar and headed for the stairs. 

“Feel like a bit of the rough and tumble?” Spike called after her. 

She turned around with a shocked expression. “What?” 

“Me . . . you . . .” He gestured between them. When she only stared at him in shock, he growled, “Patrolling? Hello?” 

“Oh. Uh . . . I . . . should stay.” She shrugged, “Maybe tomorrow.” 

Spike shrugged and walked away. “It’s not like I don’t already have plans. If I work around Angel’s schedule of non-stop yammering in my head and get a little peace, I can probably watch **_The Great Pumpkin_**.” 

Buffy shook her head as he walked away ranting to himself about Angel. She headed up the stairs, mumbling to herself, “So much easier to talk to when he wanted to kill me.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_**

Gunn and Angel sat on the couch playing a video game as Fred sat on the arm of the couch next to Gunn, watching. In the small kitchen, Wesley poured Cordelia a cup of tea. 

“It’s inspiring to see you like this. The initiative you’ve shown in training with Angel, taking responsibility. I’m proud of you,” Wesley praised. 

“Well, it never hurts to be prepared,” Cordelia replied. 

“Hm, I agree,” Wesley said. “We should all be battle ready, every one of us.” 

“Dead!” Gunn yelled in the living room, “Dead! So dead! So very, very dead, just how dead are you, huh?” 

“I’m tired of being the dead one,” Angel grumbled. 

“So, Angel, have you talked to Spike yet?” Fred asked shyly. 

“We’ve communicated. I wouldn’t exactly call it talking,” Angel replied sadly. 

“Arguing then?” Fred asked, looking at him as if he were the problem. 

“More or less,” Angel shrugged. 

He didn’t want to talk about it. Whatever was going on between him and Spike should remain private. Fred and Cordelia had been on him to call Spike and try to talk to him. He’d done that, so to speak. He finally broke through Spike’s drunken haze and then he discovered that Spike was in the shower. After that, all he saw in his mind was water cascading over his boy’s naked flesh and had to have him, even if it was only in thought. Then, Spike warned him to never try anything similar a mind fuck like that again and promptly kicked him out of his mind. 

He’d started out with good intentions. What was he doing wrong? He remembered a time when Spike would crawl on his hands and knees for what he did to him. Okay, so Angelus was in residence at the time. But, he remembered hot nights and sticky, blood-soaked sheets. Most of the blood was Spike’s, but points for intent! 

“He still hasn’t forgiven you?” Fred asked sadly. 

“No,” Angel replied looking down at the game controller and watched his fingers go through the motions of the game. 

Wesley looked at the three of them through the open kitchen door. “I was thinking, perhaps I’d enter into a similar training arrangement with our Fred,” he said, addressing Cordelia behind him. 

She watched Wesley look at Fred and perkily replied, “Oh, hey, if you think she can help you fight, why not?” Wesley balked at her. “I’m kidding. Wesley, if you want to get to know Fred better, maybe the next time you have her over for an intimate dinner for two, you won’t ask the rest of us to come along.” 

“Ah, I don’t . . . I mean . . .” Wesley stammered. Cordelia looked at him expectantly. “Was I _that_ obvious?” 

“Yes! Ha, ha!” Gunn gloated from the living room as he watched the TV screen. 

“I don’t think anybody else noticed,” Cordelia whispered knowingly. 

Wesley looked longingly at Fred. “She is a rather extraordinary young woman. I thought Spike had his sights set on her?” 

“Oh, please,” Cordelia said with a wave of her hand. “He and Angel are so wrapped up in each other they can’t see two feet in front of them. He only cares for Fred like family.” 

“Ahem,” Wesley cleared his throat at hearing that. He’d read the Watcher’s Journals and numerous accounts of Spike and Drusilla together. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. “Not _that_ close.” 

“Still,” Wesley sighed. “The last thing any of us should be doing is – coupling with each other. I mean, office romances, even under the most _normal_ circumstances . . .” 

“We don’t live in normal circumstances. I mean, what are the odds of any of us actually finding someone out there who can deal with the kind of stuff we have to deal with? I don’t know. Maybe Angel and Spike are the lucky ones . . . if they’d both get their heads out of their asses and make up. Maybe we _are_ meant . . .” 

“For each other?” Wesley asked hopefully. 

“Actually I was going to say ‘to be alone.’ But what the heck, Wesley, if you like her, _tell_ her. Just go right up to her and,” she started to frown and sway a little from the nausea that suddenly came on her. “Hug her into little pieces.” 

Suddenly, Cordelia was hit by a vision and collapsed on the floor. Gunn and Angel heard the crash, jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. 

“Easy,” Angel soothed as he helped her up into a chair. 

“Convenience store, a man attacking a woman,” Cordelia reported. “His wife – it’s his wife.” 

Angel looked at Gunn and Wesley. “How many convenience stores we got on the Westside?” 

Fred immediately did the calculations in her head. “Well, even if you just include Santa Monica, Beverly Hills and Malibu only, the combined populations are something like a hundred and thirty thousand people spread over more than thirty square miles, and given that . . .” 

“A lot,” Gunn cut in. 

“I was getting there,” Fred pouted. 

“All right,” Wesley said in a tone that emphasized his still-new role as boss. “We go in two teams. Gunn, you and I . . .” 

“No. It’s too late. You can’t save her,” Cordelia said glumly. “This murder happened a week ago.” She looked at Angel. “Why would they show this to me now?” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia was at her desk when Wesley dropped a thick file onto the counter. She went over to look at it with the rest of the team. 

“What’s this?” she asked as she flipped through it. 

“Everything,” Wesley replied as he sifted through some of the papers. “Everything about the crime I believe you saw in your vision. The police reports, the husband’s written confessions, captures from the convenience store’s video surveillance cameras . . .” 

Fred came down the stairs as Gunn and Angel trickled in from other parts of the hotel to join Cordelia and Wesley in looking through the file. 

“. . . and I have to caution all of you, the medical examiner’s crime scene photos are . . . Cordelia . . .” Wesley said apprehensively as Cordelia picked up the very thing he was warning her about. 

Angel reached out and gently took the crime scene photos away from her. “Maybe you shouldn’t be looking at that.” 

“Tell that to the Powers,” Cordelia shot back. “They already ran the THX version in my head, remember?” She looked at Wesley, “How did you get this stuff?” 

“I did it the old-fashioned way,” Wesley replied and then avoided her eyes when he said, “I bought it.” 

“The police sold you information on an open case?” Fred asked surprised. 

“Not exactly,” Wesley coughed, “A source, someone with access to this stuff. Usually they sell to the tabloids, when the victims are more high profile.” 

“Charlene Baird,” Gunn read off the paper in his hand. 

Wesley nodded, “The victim. She and the perpetrator were married for thirty years, no history of domestic violence.” 

“Why’d he do it then?” Fred asked. 

Wesley read through the man’s confession. “He says: She wouldn’t listen to him. He was trying to get her to stop talking.” 

“Well, it worked,” Fred said blandly. 

“I don’t get it,” Gunn commented as he waved a paper under Wesley’s nose. “If this guy confessed, then crime solved. Why are the Powers airing reruns in Cordy’s head?” 

“I don’t know,” Wesley replied. 

Angel looked at one of the pictures from the surveillance cameras and saw someone familiar. “I do.” He put the photo on the counter between them and pointed the person out. “Eleven twenty-four, twenty minutes before the crime occurred look who’s there.” 

Wesley grabbed a magnifying glass and aimed it at the guy Angel pointed out in the background. “It’s Billy.” He handed the picture to Gunn. 

“Oh, boy,” Gunn groaned, seeing it for himself. 

“What? What?” Cordelia asked confused. She grabbed a photo and looked at the person in question. “Okay, kind of cute. So, who is he?” 

No one answered her right away. 

**************************

An hour later, Wesley and Fred sat on the round settee in the lobby. Gunn stood beside it. They looked over at Angel and Cordelia, waiting for her reaction. Angel perched on the edge of Cordelia’s desk and watched as she paced back and forth, holding the photo in her hands. 

“Are you sure this is him?” Cordelia asked, holding up the picture. “This is the guy?” 

Angel nodded for the tenth time. “When you pull someone from a hell dimension, you tend to remember their face. That’s him.” 

Cordelia slowly sank down into her chair. “Well then, now we know why the Powers made me experience that woman’s death. She died because of me.” 

“No,” Angel said flatly. 

“Yes! Angel, if he’s somehow responsible, then so am I,” she contended. 

“You’re not the one who broke him out and put him back on the streets. I did that,” Angel stated, taking the blame on himself. 

“For _me_ ,” Cordelia stressed. “You did it to save me.” 

“And I’d do it again,” Angel said stubbornly. 

“Angel . . .” Cordelia said sadly. 

He crouched down in front of her. “Hey. Hey, whatever’s happening now, you’re not responsible for this and neither am I. But, I know who is.” He looked at her watery eyes. “Do you want to go up to Sunnydale and stay with Spike? He may let you use that whirlpool tub of his if you make him feel sorry enough for you.” That got a small smile out of her. “You’ve been after that tub since he bought it on my credit card. Besides, I think Sunnydale needs a dose of you. You can hit Xander for making eyes at my boy.” Angel sounded hopeful. “Fred already punched him.” 

A tearful laugh bubbled up out of Cordelia. “Fred socked Xander Harris good when she was up there?” Angel nodded with a smirk. “He deserved worse than that.” 

“Surprised me and Spike both. She’s become a tough little cookie since she met Spike,” he replied. 

She gave him a little smile. “I won’t be a coward, Angel. I’m not going to run up there and hide from this under Spike’s bed.” 

“Hey now, I never said anything about _his_ bed, just his tub,” Angel admonished teasingly. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_**

Anya was showing off the ring Xander had gotten her as the Scoobies oohed and ahhed over it. 

“And he said he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without me, and he gave me this,” she said, wiggling her fingers. Xander stood beside her as Dawn grabbed her hand to look at the ring. 

“Which I’ll be paying for the rest of my life,” Xander said and then smiled at Anya when she looked his way. 

“Can I try it on?” Dawn asked hopefully. 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Anya smiled. 

Giles and Buffy came into the room, bearing drinks for everyone. 

“Sorry, we couldn’t do the big fancy,” Buffy said apologetically. “You kind of caught us with our parties down.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. This is just the first premarital celebration. There’ll be lots more . . . with gifts,” Anya sounded sure of herself. 

Buffy hugged Anya and then Xander, a little too tightly. 

“You’re getting married! You!” Buffy said happily. 

“Me. Choking,” Xander said hoarsely. 

“Oh sorry!” She said, releasing him. “I just – I can’t believe it. It seems like only yesterday you had to pay a girl to date you.” 

Xander scoffed at that. “Like I’d ever pay . . .” He snickered nervously. “Define ‘date’.” 

“I was only out of commission for three months,” Buffy pouted and asked as Willow returned from the kitchen with snacks, “How many other things have changed since I’ve been away?” 

“Ooh, I got a tattoo!” Dawn smiled. 

“What?!” Buffy said shocked. 

“Which is why we told her no,” Willow stressed. 

“Just a little one?” Dawn whined. 

“Over my dead body,” Buffy glared at Dawn, “The kind that doesn’t come back.” 

“Fine,” Dawn pouted. She saw Anya come back and hugged her. “Congratulations. You’re lucky to find a guy like him.” 

“Not as lucky as me,” Xander said, kissing Anya on the cheek as Buffy looked on with a smile. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Lilah’s Apartment_**

Lilah was pouring herself a drink. She jumped and nearly spilled the amber liquid on her plush carpet as the door to her dimly lit apartment was suddenly kicked opened. Angel stood on the other side in the brightly lit hallway. 

“That’s a very dramatic entrance,” Lilah commented blandly, “except for the part where you can’t enter.” 

“You’re a little jumpy there, Lilah,” Angel said ominously. 

“It’s been a long day at the office,” Lilah replied tiredly as she sipped her drink. 

“Then you know that your boy is on the loose. You know what he’s been doing,” Angel surmised. 

Lilah sighed and turned around. “It’s been brought to my attention.” 

As she walked closer to the door, the light from the hall shadowed her face, but it was enough for Angel to see the black and blue bruises from the beating Gavin gave her earlier. 

“God, Lilah. Are you . . .?” Angel almost felt sorry for her. _Almost_. 

“I’m fine,” Lilah said bitterly. “You should see the other guy.” 

“I plan to.” 

“Billy _never_ touched me, _friend_ ,” Lilah sneered. 

“I know. He has some power. He makes people . . .” 

“No. You don’t know. Billy never touched me, and _you_ can’t touch him. Nobody can. Billy, as in Blim? As in Congressman _Nathan Blim_ ’s nephew? That family is the closest thing this country has to royalty. They’d own half the eastern seaboard even if they weren’t clients of ours. The law won’t go near him.” 

“I’m not the law,” Angel stated the obvious in case her beating knocked common sense out of her. 

“This isn’t some three-horned Gurnar Beast you can just chop into meatloaf!” Lilah argued. 

“Why are you protecting him after what he did?” Angel asked brow furrowed. 

“I’m _sorry_ , but this deep chivalric concern coming from the only man I know who _definitely_ wants to kill me, is a bit much on a day like this.” 

Angel noticed the glass rattling and the stutter in her voice. Lilah was always sure of herself. He’d never seen her frightened of anything before. “Your hands are shaking.” 

“Stay away from my client,” Lilah said angrily and shut the door in his face. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike lounged on the couch with his legs crossed and bare feet propped up on the coffee table, a glass of blood balanced on his knee with one hand and a remote in the other. He flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch and fell on a rerun episode of **_Married . . . with Children_**. The episode featured an actor who kind of resembled his Sire. Bloody hell, he couldn’t even get away from Angel while watching TV. 

He hadn’t heard anything from the brooding ponce since the incident in the shower. Not that he cared if he ever did again. That was an underhanded trick. He hoped Angel was in L.A. doubled over with guilt. Not just for the shower, but also sending him back to Sunnydale and forcing him to leave . . . 

Okay, so he really didn’t like L.A. Nor did he particularly care for Wesley’s upper-class, holier-than-thou demeanor, and Gunn’s looking down his nose at him, or Cordelia’s brash comments about his hair and clothes or Fred’s sugary sweet behavior. Was there such a thing as _too nice_? And, he especially didn’t like Angel’s heavy-handed ‘I’m the Sire, you should be lucky I give you the time of day’ attitude. 

God, he missed L.A. He wished Cordelia was here to argue over mundane stuff. He wished he was out patrolling the five blocks that surrounded the hotel with Gunn, or bickering with Wesley over some type of research. It was cute to see Fred’s face turn red with a blush that went to her hairline when he teased her. Bloody hell, he was bored here. He wondered what sort of beastie Cordelia had in a vision tonight and if Angel was enjoying hunting it down and killing it without him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Blim Estate_**

Angel’s convertible pulled to a stop outside the gates. Angel shut the ignition off and jumped out over the door. Gunn and Wesley followed suit and they walked up to the entrance gates of the big estate. Angel started looking for a way in. 

“This is it. The Blim estate,” Wesley confirmed. 

“Not very welcoming, is it?” Gunn asked as he eyed the gates. 

“I don’t suppose it’ll do much good to ring the bell either,” Wesley surmised. 

“How about we sneak in dressed up like security guards or something?” Gunn suggested. 

“Well, that’s a possibility,” Wesley nodded. “Or we could . . .” 

Suddenly, Angel leapt straight up fifteen feet to the top of the gate. He climbed over the spikes, dropped down on the other side and disappeared into the bushes. 

Gunn and Wesley watched Angel and then looked up at the gate, judging the distance. “So . . . wanna go next?” Gunn asked. 

Wesley sighed at the gate. “I guess we wait here.” 

Inside the property line, Angel ran towards the house. He spotted Billy through a set of glass doors, talking on the phone. Angel crept closer to the glass doors. Billy lowered the phone and looked out, directly at him. 

Angel ran out from behind a bush, jumped over a low wall, picked up a metal patio chair and tossed it through the glass doors, shattering them. Billy stood unmoved. He tossed the phone aside as Angel stepped in through the doors. 

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that I can just walk right in here without an invitation?” Angel asked. 

“Well, as far as I’m concerned you have a standing invitation,” Billy replied. 

“You’re not a right guy, Billy. You’re not quite human either, are you?” Angel asked as he took a menacing step forward. 

“Not quite, more than you,” Billy replied, watching him advance. He didn’t look too worried. 

Angel moved cautiously around the boy, always keeping him in sight. “You like to hurt women, do you, Billy? That make you feel like a man?” 

“I have never hurt a woman in my life,” Billy sneered. “I just like to watch.” 

“Not anymore,” Angel growled softly. 

“Oh?” 

Angel nodded. “You’re going back.” 

“Really? ’Cause I don’t think so.” 

Just then, their stalking of each other was interrupted by a female officer. 

“Los Angeles Police Department.” 

“Hands where we can see ’em,” a male voice shouted. “Turn around, slowly!” 

Angel rolled his eyes. He was used to this in his line of work. Just appear to be cooperating and then he’d have to break free later and track Billy down again. He sighed as he raised his hands and turned to face the shattered doors. Billy stepped up beside him before he could speak. 

“You’re looking for me,” Billy announced. 

“William Blim?” the woman queried. 

Angel watched confused as Billy replied, “That’s right. I’m the one that called you. Did you find the body? Was it where I said it would be?” 

“William Blim, we’re taking you into custody for questioning,” the female cop told him. 

“Oh yes,” Billy smiled as he turned to look at Angel. “I should think you would.” 

“Sanchez, be sure you read him his rights,” she reminded her partner. 

Sanchez pulled out a pair of cuffs and walked up to Billy. 

Putting one hand on Sanchez’s wrist, Billy asked, “Will those be absolutely necessary? I won’t give you any trouble, officer. I’ll come quietly. 

Sanchez turned back to look at his partner. She nodded. Angel watched as Billy removed his hand and left a residual glowing handprint on Sanchez’s wrist that quickly faded. Sanchez led Billy out of the house. 

The woman officer looked at Angel then. “Who are you?” 

“He’s nobody,” Billy called over his shoulder. 

Angel watched as the police led Billy away, reading his Miranda rights as they went. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_**

Buffy and Xander stepped out the front door. They’d just listened to Anya planning her wedding and marriage to Xander, complete with children. It all made Xander nervous. 

“Air! Sweet mother oxygen,” Xander cried in relief. 

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked. 

“Yeah. I just . . . it’s just, I didn’t think it would be so much,” Xander stammered. 

“But this is good. I mean, this is . . . love and celebration and moving forward. Anya’s right. This is the way life’s supposed to work out,” Buffy encouraged. 

“Right,” Xander nodded. “Deep pools of ooey delight. I’m wallowing, not drowning.” 

“Definite wallow action,” she agreed. 

“Okay. So once more into the breach?” Xander asked as he squared his shoulders. 

“Oh. I think my breaches are wearing a little thin. I’m going to take Spike up on that offer to patrol. Got to be something out there cruisin’ for a smackdown,” Buffy said, heading for the porch steps. 

“Uh, Buffy. He may be busy. Last I saw, he had a girl with him,” Xander said. 

“Spike has a girl with him? She wasn’t brain dead was she?” 

“No. She was competent enough to hit me when I tried to get her away from him,” Xander said, wincing at the memory. 

“She hit you?” 

“Then, Angel showed up and threatened to hurt me if I grabbed her again. Why would he think we were the bad guys?” Xander asked. 

“Angel’s here?” Buffy’s heart started thumping wildly. “I’ve got to go. See you later, Xan.” 

She was off the porch and disappearing into the dark before Xander could tell her that it wasn’t going to do her any good to see Deadboy. He took a deep breath to compose himself and went back inside the house. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel, Wesley and Gunn got back to the hotel and promptly went into research mode. They let Cordelia and Fred in on what happened. Wesley was just now getting off the phone with the city morgue concerning the body Angel heard Billy talk about before he was arrested. 

“My contact at the city morgue confirms it,” Wesley announced. “Her body was discovered earlier tonight. A young woman was reported missing three days ago. Someone phone in a tip.” 

“Billy,” Angel stated. 

“It doesn’t make sense. I mean, even if he did it, he didn’t do it, you know what I’m saying?” Gunn said shaking his head. “So why confess? What does he get?” 

“Out. It gets him out,” Angel replied. 

“Yeah, out of his palatial twelve-million-dollar compound and into a holding cell at Men’s Central,” Gunn said. 

“Yes, but for how long?” Wesley inquired thoughtfully. 

“Well, an impenetrable cube of hell fire in a heavily-guarded demon dimension couldn’t do much, so my guess: regular bars? Not really going to be a problem,” Cordeila said. 

“She’s right,” Angel agreed as he turned to leave. “All he needs to get out this time is his lawyer.” 

“Angel, what are you doing?” Wesley asked his brow furrowed in concern. 

“I’m going to get there before Lilah does,” Angel replied simply. 

“And then what?” Gunn asked. 

“Well, I took him out of one cell, I can take him out of this one, too,” Angel said flatly. 

“Wait! Angel, you can’t barge into a police precinct and go all **_Terminator_** ,” Cordelia protested. 

“Yeah, man, this is a time when we could have really used Spike as back up,” Gunn said. 

“I’ll be okay. As much as I wish Spike were here, he isn’t,” Angel said agitated. 

“Whose fault is that?” Cordelia asked pointedly staring at him. “It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. What if he lays the whammy on you? Maybe we should call Spike and get him down here to help.” 

“Enough about Spike, Cordy! I know things aren’t great between us right now. But, I can’t worry about that. As for Billy ‘laying the whammy on me’, he won’t be conscious long enough to try.” 

“He’s not there!” Fred said as she rushed out of Wesley’s office. Everyone looked at her. “I just heard it on the police scanner. The patrol car carrying Billy never made it to the police station. There’s been an accident.”


	13. Chapter 39-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 39-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 6)_

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Buffy burst into the house without knocking, as per usual. She stormed into the living room where a black-and-white horror movie was playing on the television and demanded, “Get your gear together. We need to . . .” 

She stopped when she realized Spike was nowhere to be seen. Buffy looked around, searching for the blonde menace. “Spike?” 

“You know . . .” Spike said behind her, causing her to jump. She turned to find him directly behind her looking unimpressed. “In civilized countries, that’s called trespassing.” 

“Good thing you’re uncivilized,” Buffy said. 

“Giles find you?” Spike asked. 

“Where’s Angel?” Buffy asked at the same time. 

“Giles?” Buffy frowned. 

“Why the hell does everyone assume I know where Angel is? I’m not his bloody keeper,” Spike said angrily. 

“Why was Giles looking for me?” Buffy cut him off again. 

“It’s Dawn,” Spike replied. 

“Dawn?” Buffy’s frown deepened. “Why, what happened?” 

“Nothing. It’s okay. Giles was by here earlier looking for you. Dawn and her little friend pulled a Houdini. Up to a bit of candy-corn mischief, I suspect.” 

“Wait, she’s out there running around by herself?” Buffy asked with a horrified expression. 

“Yeah, kids these days, eh?” Spike said sarcastically. 

Buffy walked past him towards a chest he used to store weapons. 

“I did a sweep of the tunnels and Giles is poking about the cemetery,” Spike said as he watched her. 

“We have to find her,” Buffy stated as she tossed the lid opened and grabbed a few weapons. 

“I don’t think she’s in there,” Spike commented dryly. He frowned as he caught a crossbow that she had tossed at him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia took a tazer from the weapons cabinet and put it into her shoulder bag. She picked up a crossbow and stowed it as well. 

Fred came down the stairs and watched her. “What are you doing?” 

Cordelia turned at the sound of her voice with a guilty expression. “I’m going to go run an errand . . . uh, a normal everyday errand.” She headed for the back door when Fred’s voice stopped her. 

“Cordelia, I don’t think you should do this.” 

“How can I not?” Cordelia asked sadly. She opened the door and walked out. 

Fred was left staring after her. She turned and jumped in surprise as Wesley walked in the main entrance doors. 

“Fred! You’re here. Good,” Wesley said excitedly, for him anyway. “I was hoping you would assist me.” He lifted a bag with paper in it. “I managed to lift a sample of Billy’s blood. Maybe we can identify his demon lineage and somehow figure out how his power works.” She followed him into the office as he went in and sat down. “Would you hand me the--” he started to say. He looked up and saw that Fred held out glass slides. “Glass slides.” He gave her a silly smile. “Thank you.” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Cemetery_**

It was a dark and foggy night, perfect weather for Halloween. Buffy and Spike had searched every other place for Dawn that they thought a teenage girl might go. They were zeroing in on one or two cemeteries. It was just like the girl to end up in a cemetery even with a Slayer for a sister. 

“Xander asked Anya to marry him,” Buffy said to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them. 

“I’ll bet that’ll be an interesting ordeal. Imagine Xander’s family sharing a room with her former demon friends and family,” Spike scoffed. “I’d love to see that.” 

With no other segue, Buffy asked, “So who’s your new girlfriend?” 

Spike looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her. “Huh?” 

“Xander said he saw you with a girl and that she hit him,” Buffy said. 

“She’s not my girlfriend. She was just a friend who came to me for help,” Spike replied in an evasive tone. 

“Xander also said Angel got protective around her,” Buffy said. 

“Buffy, stop fishing for information. Angel leads a completely different life than when you were with him,” Spike said irritated at the turn in conversation. 

“I know that. I also know that you are with him,” Buffy said brusquely. 

Spike stopped and glared at her. “Is there something you want to say, Slayer?” 

“Just that I know you two are in a relationship of sorts together,” Buffy said indignantly. 

“About as much as anyone can be with a brooding bastard of a Sire,” Spike growled. 

“And somehow this new girl brings out his protective side,” Buffy finished. 

“Look, Buffy, Fred . . . is Fred. She’s sweet and funny. Cute when she blushes. Angel rescued her from Pylea a few months back,” Spike replied. 

“What kind of name is ‘Fred’?” Buffy asked which made Spike look at her strangely. 

“You really think you have exclusive rights to him?” Spike asked, raising a scarred brow. “You moved on to Riley. Said you trusted him more. So, Angel can move on as well. As far as _Fred_ is concerned, she is none of your business, _Buffy_.” 

Buffy shrank back from the hostility in his voice. “Geez, Spike, I’m just making conversation.” 

“No. You’re looking to get worked up into lather over Angel for no reason. You two are split up. Get over it already and move on,” Spike said angrily and walked off ahead of her. 

Buffy hung back to follow him and sort out her own thoughts. So, Angel and Spike were protective of this Fred. Why then was Spike here? ’Cause, she was not feeling the protectiveness jive in her direction when she was the one Angel sent Spike to protect. 

**************************

Justin had caught Dawn in a clearing of the cemetery where he’d chased her after trying to bite her while they were making out. Currently, she was wishing she hadn’t followed her friend, Janice’s lead tonight. She was trying to find a way around the vampire jock. 

“I just want to be close to you,” Justin pleaded as he cupped her face in his hands. Dawn gasped and jerked away. “Shh. It’s okay. It’ll only hurt for a second.” Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the fatal bite when she heard a familiar voice. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Giles said, coming out of the bushes surrounding the clearing. 

“Giles?” Dawn sounded surprised as she turned to see the Watcher behind her. Justin used the distraction to grab her by the throat. 

Giles stepped forward in what he hoped was a menacing performance. “Now, you have a choice, son. We can do this the easy way or we can do this the ha--” 

Giles stopped at the glare of bright headlights suddenly illuminating the clearing, blinding him. He put a hand up to shield his eyes and looked around at the sound of car doors opening. Soon, he was surrounded by a throng of vampires and all were advancing towards him. He glanced at Justin who still held Dawn captive. 

Justin smirked as the odds quickly turned in his favor. “What were my choices again?” 

Giles jumped when a hand clamped onto his shoulder. He looked over to see Spike standing beside him. 

“So, is this a private game, uh, or can anyone join in?” Spike asked. 

Buffy ran into the clearing on the other side and was brought up short by the scene of Justin holding Dawn captive. 

“Dawn, are you . . .?” Buffy started to ask. Her concern turned to outrage as Justin released Dawn. “Were you parking . . . with a vamp?” 

“I-I didn’t know he was dead,” Dawn said defensively. 

“Living dead,” Justin corrected. 

“Shut up!” Dawn yelled at him. 

“How could you _not_ know?” Buffy asked angrily. 

“I just met him!” Dawn yelled at her sister. 

“Oh! Oh, so you were parking in the woods with a boy you just met!” Buffy challenged. 

“We’ve seen each other at parties,” Justin explained. 

“Shut up!” Buffy said then turned back to Dawn. “I don’t believe you!” 

Spike looked around at the circle of vampires. What was it about the Summers women that made them foolishly walk into danger? 

“Like you’ve never fallen for a vampire?” Dawn shot back. 

“That was _different_ ,” Buffy emphasized. 

“It always is when it’s you,” Dawn said. 

Spike watched them argue before adding his two cents into the conversation. “Yeah sure, and at sixteen, you were so aware of men! Didn’t even know _he_ was a vampire yourself, Slayer.” 

“Your sister’s the Slayer? I totally get it now. I knew there was something about you,” Justin said, addressing Dawn. 

“Shut the hell up, ponce. One more word out of you, and I’ll be wiping the dust from my coat!” Spike said dismissively. 

Spike, Buffy and Dawn gave him angry looks before returning to their argument. 

“That’s not the point right now, Spike!” Buffy said. 

Spike gave her an embellished wave of his hand. “By all means, what is the bleeding point, bint? As I see it, you expect her to know the difference when you didn’t. You’re the elder sister, right? Does the phrase ‘lead by example’ mean anything to you?” 

“Stay out of this Spike!” Buffy yelled at him. 

“Stay out of --?” Spike scoffed indignantly. “I’m not the one that barged into _your_ house and _demanded_ I help find her sister!” He gestured towards Dawn and Justin. “Well, there she is and she’s shagging a vamp! What are the odds of that given what you’ve done! At least he doesn’t --” He looked at Justin. “You don’t have a soul do you?” Justin shook his head. Spike turned back to Buffy. “At least he doesn’t have to soul to lose between her legs!” 

“Hey!” Buffy and Dawn yelled resentfully. 

“I’m _not_ shagging him!” Dawn clarified. 

Buffy turned on Dawn then. “Where did you hear that word? We do _not_ use ‘shagging’.” She glanced at Justin. “Well, in his case maybe that’s what it would be.” 

“I don’t even know what ‘shagging’ means,” Justin exclaimed. 

“Shut up!” Spike, Buffy and Dawn chorused. 

“Uh, excuse me!” a vampire broke in. “Can we fight now?” 

Buffy looked at the assembly of fangs. “Hey, didn’t anyone come here to just make out?” 

A human couple in back raised their hands. 

“Aw, that’s sweet. You run,” Buffy warned them. They took off in the opposite direction. Buffy turned to the vampire that wanted to fight. “You scream.” 

With that, Buffy, Spike and Giles took off in different directions. Spike pursued the vampire who complained. The vampire kicked him and Spike punched him back a few times. 

Giles stood by one the parked cars and hit a vampire. His buddy kicked Giles in the chest and pinned him against the car. 

“Die, Slayer!” a vampire yelled. 

Buffy stepped in front of Dawn. “You are so not getting a good day.” 

“Maybe a good night!” the vampire shot back as he rushed towards her. 

Buffy pulled out a stake. “Not that either.” She staked him as he ran straight for her and dusted in her face. “Mm-hmm,” which turned into a coughing fit. 

Dawn punched Justin in the gut and ran off into the woods. 

Buffy saw her and growled at her luck. _Damn Dawn!_ She turned around in a huff just in time to see Giles having difficulty with the two vampires he was fighting. “Giles!” Once she got his attention, she tossed a stake to him. He caught it and staked one vampire. Ducking a punch from the second, he staked that one too. 

Giles brushed the dust off and looked around. Suddenly, another vampire appeared and tackled him. They both landed on the hood of the car and slid off the other side. 

Somewhere in nearby brush, Spike continued to trade blows with the complaining vampire. He got a lucky hit on Spike and sent him to the ground. 

“What is your malfunction, man?!” the vampire protested. 

Spike angrily got to his feet and shoved the vampire back into the dirt. “It’s Halloween, you nit! We take the night off! Those are the rules!” 

The vampire got to his feet. “Me and mine don’t follow no stinking rules! We’re rebels!” 

He took a swing at Spike who blocked it and head-butted him. Then, Spike kicked him in the chest. He slammed back against a tree trunk and slid down to the ground. 

“No. I’m a rebel. You’re an idiot,” Spike said as he pulled out his crossbow and shot the vampire, dusting him. He started to reload the crossbow, grumbling, “Give the lot of us a bad name.” He finished reloading and looked up just as another vampire tackled him. His crossbow fired its bolt accidentally. The arrow flew off into the woods as Spike and the vampire hit the ground. 

Meanwhile, Buffy was fighting another vampire. They traded blows before he picked her up and slammed her onto the hood of a car. She rolled aside as he punched at her. Instead, his fist went through the metal. While he struggled to pull it out, Buffy kicked him and flipped up to stand on the car. The vampire grabbed for her, but she jumped out of the way. Finally, freeing his arm, he grabbed both of her legs and she fell on her ass on the car. She struggled to free one leg and kicked him away. 

“Spike! A little help here!” Buffy yelled. 

There was a lot of grunting from the tree line as Spike fought with his opponent for a few more minutes before he dusted him and staggered out from behind a tree. 

Just then, the vampire that grabbed Buffy before punched her and pinned her against the car. He pulled the antenna loose from the car and tried to garrote her with it. She was struggling to push him off when Spike moved closer. 

“That’s all I am to you, Slayer! Want to know about Angel? Visit Spike. Need help in a fight? Call Spike. I hate it here!” Spike growled as he dusted the vampire she was struggling with from behind. 

Buffy dusted herself off. “Yeah, ’cause your life in L.A. was so much better with . . . let’s see, Queen Bitch and loser Wesley.” 

Spike’s brows furrowed in resentment. “Yes it was. Cordelia has grown and Wesley is a great fighter and researcher. You never gave either of them a chance. Neither you or your pathetic Scooby gang!” 

Buffy gave him a skeptical look. “And you did? You tried to kill us all over a love spell for that loopy Drusilla! Talk about a few crackers short of a full box. You’re the reason Cordy was gutted by a rebar.” 

“Leave Dru out of this!” Spike growled. “Besides, I wasn’t there when it happened. As I understand it, that happened because she caught Harris kissing Red! Now, are we finished here, ’cause there’s a rule about vampires not venturing too far from their lairs on Halloween and I got a bottle of JD waiting at home.” 

Buffy harrumphed and walked off ahead of him. 

“Typical female! Help her out in a fight and she walks away,” He called out, “You know, I could go back to a place where people cared about me,” then muttering to himself, he added, “Were it not for that bastard of a Sire!” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley was examining Billy’s blood through a microscope. 

“This was taken from the print made of Billy’s blood,” he told Fred as he made room for her to look. “Tell me what you think.” 

Fred looked through the lens. “Looks to me as if some of the red blood cells are kind of supercharged.” 

“Those would probably be from Billy’s demon lineage,” Wesley confirmed. 

“So, however Billy is putting the mojo on people, the power seems to be in his blood,” she said thoughtfully. “Which means it can be in his sweat or his saliva or even his touch.” 

“Speaking of saliva, where is Cordelia?” Wesley asked ominously. 

Fred gave him a confused look. “What do you mean ‘speaking of saliva’? How does saliva make you . . .?” 

“It’s a simple question,” Wesley cut in. “Where is Cordelia?” 

“I-I think she went out,” Fred stammered. 

“Out?” Fred nodded. “Did she happen to mention where?” 

“She just, ah, she said an errand,” Fred replied. 

“So, when you say you _think_ she went out, what you mean is you _know_ she went out because you spoke to her,” Wesley pointed out. 

“Well, I suppose I . . .” 

Wesley looked up at her with a raised brow. “Suppose?” 

“I-I did. Yes, I did,” she stammered again. 

“That’s better,” he said as he leaned in to look through the microscope again. “Lie to me again and we’re going to have a problem.” 

Fred inched around Wesley’s desk and slowly backed away towards the door while Wesley was occupied with the blood sample. 

“Where are you going, Fred?” he asked without looking up. 

Fred stood still, her heart racing. “I was just going to call Cordelia for you and find out where she is.” 

“That’s not necessary,” he said. 

“It’s not?” 

“No. Sit down, Fred.” 

“I’ll just . . .” she gestured towards the lobby. 

“Sit!” he yelled and then softened his voice. “Down.” 

Fred jumped a little and hesitantly walked back into the office. She sat in a chair in front of Wesley’s desk. 

“There’s something we need to discuss,” he announced. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you Cordelia left. I really am,” she hurried to apologize. 

Wesley held up a hand to stop her. “We’re past that. I’ve put it behind me.” He stood up and walked around his desk, perching himself on the edge. “However, we are going to have to make some changes around here.” 

“Change can be good, I guess,” she said nervously. 

“Like no more of these provocative little outfits you wear,” Wesley said, pulling the strap of Fred’s dress off her shoulder. Fred immediately pulled it back in place. 

“Provocative?” Fred sounded perplexed. 

“Maybe Mommy and Daddy never explained to you that men – _grown men_ – are wired a certain way,” Wesley said, leaning closer to a wide-eyed Fred. “You can’t be coming in here day after day waving it in my face like this.” 

“What?” 

“You’re practically daring me to take it. Is that what you want?” Wesley asked in a near whisper. 

Fred jumped up out of her chair. “Stop it!” 

“Oh,” Wesley held up his hands in surrender. “Are we standing now? Is that what we’re doing?” 

Fred backed away, her eyes trained on him. “This conversation is making me very uncomfortable.” 

“Oh, _you’re_ uncomfortable?” Wesley sneered. “That’s rich! How do you think I feel? What do you think it’s like for me with you smelling the way you do?” 

“Wesley, please,” Fred beseeched. 

Wesley stalked closer to her. “You think you can taunt a man and get away with it? You brush up close, bat your eyes and then when our backs are turned, you _laugh_ at us.” 

“No, I would never . . .” 

“ _Humiliate_ us,” Wesley cut in. “You think you can do anything you please because you’re connected to life, because you _bleed_ , is that it?” 

“No!” Fred cried. 

Suddenly, Wesley slapped her across the face with an open hand and she fell to the floor. Fred held a hand against the stinging pain in her cheek and stared at him in shock. 

It wasn’t that she was a weak woman. She’d survived five years in a demon dimension where they treated humans as slave-cows. Sometimes life here in Los Angeles overwhelmed her, but she was by no means a weak person. She could defend herself when she needed to. Hitting that boy in Sunnydale who argued with Spike was an example of that. 

However, Wesley was different. She couldn’t understand how he’d gone from being so nice and courteous to belligerent, hateful, vulgar. The slap he gave her surprised and stunned her more than anything. She wasn’t expecting that to happen. 

“I’ll show you blood,” Wesley threatened. 

Fred willed herself to focus on the words. Wesley had mentioned blood quite a few times already. She glanced at the desk where the microscope sat untouched – with Billy’s blood on the slide. 

Fred’s eyes widened. 

_Billy’s tainted blood._

And Wesley had touched it. 

Fred’s wide gaze shifted back to Wesley who was coming straight for her. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the side doors. Before she could get them open, Wesley grabbed her by the hair from behind and tossed her down on the stairs. 

“What do you tell a woman who has two black eyes?” Wesley asked as he loomed over her and reached down to grab her. “Nothing you haven’t already told her twice.” 

Wesley was stronger than her, but Fred had enough adrenaline pumping through her veins that she kicked out at Wesley, propelling him backwards and lost her shoes in the process. When he fell back against a pillar in the staircase, she picked herself up and ran upstairs barefoot. 

“No sense of humor,” Wesley commented as he watched her run away. 

He pulled his tie off and walked down to the lobby. He stretched his shoulders and massaged his neck. As he turned to drop the tie on the reception desk, his sight came to rest on the battle ax in the corner of the weapons cabinet. 

Fred ran down the hall and up the back stairs to the third floor she shared with Angel. She ran past Angel’s room and ducked into her own. She turned the room upside down looking for the cell phone Angel had given her in case of emergencies. She snatched it in a tight fist and snuck out of her room. She had just closed her door when she glanced up to see Wesley rounding the corner the with a battle ax in hand. Praying he didn’t notice her yet, she ran around the corner of the hall and up to the fourth floor. 

“Fred?” he called out as he followed her perfume’s scent. “Oh, Fred? I know what you’re doing. What you’re up to. Luring me.” He turned down the hall leading to the fourth floor stairs. He looked up the empty staircase with a leer. “Forcing me to find you.” He slowly walked up the stairs to the fourth floor landing. “It’s such a dog and pony show. You beguile me with your girlish ways.” He pushed a door open with his ax as he walked past it. “I pursue you.” He pushed another door open. “But you never give over, do you? Always hanging around Angel and Spike, begging them for attention like a lost puppy wanting to feel loved.” He pushed another door open. “Wanting love from cold, dead flesh. Spike doesn’t even have a soul. How can you love with no soul, Fred?” He pushed another door open. “Well, guess what, my love? I’m not some downy-faced schoolboy.” He pushed another door open only to have it blocked by the safety chain. “I’m a warm, flesh and blood man.” 

Wesley kicked the door open and walked into the room. There were paint supplies lying around as if someone had been working on renovating it. That aside, it appeared dark and deserted. 

“You can’t come out into the open, can you?” Wesley asked. “No, you hide. You deceive. It’s nothing new. It goes all the way back to Eve. You and the serpent plotting behind our backs. ‘Here honey, eat this. It’s just an apple.’ That’s the problem with your sex, Fred. You’re all weak. You’re all dirty. You won’t be satisfied until you’ve brought each and every one of us out of the garden and down into the muck with you.” 

Wesley smashed a stool aside with his ax, breaking it and scattering its contents across the floor. He heard a smothered gasp and snapped around to see the stripped bed in the corner. He stalked over to it. Fred gasped as Wesley picked up the mattress, tossed it aside and stared down at her. 

“Why do you make me do this?” Wesley asked. 

Fred whimpered as she struggled to her feet and tripped over the bed frame in her effort to get away. Wesley grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up against the wall. He leaned in to kiss her only to draw back in pain as Fred dug her nails into his shoulder and kneed him in the groin. As Wesley hunched over in pain, Fred made her escape. 

Fred quietly hurried down a dark hallway. A short distance behind her she heard Wesley taunt, “I’m still here.” Fred stopped and slowly turned to look behind her. Wesley stood at the other end of the hall. 

“I don’t run away like a girl,” Wesley sneered. “I see things through.” 

Fred took off running with Wesley behind her. He saw Fred running up the stairs and hurried down the hall in the opposite direction with the idea to cut her off at the other end. 

As she ran down another hallway, she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. Fred rolled over to look behind her as she backed away on all fours. She got to her feet and turned to run . . . right smack into Gunn who put a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. 

Assuring that she’d stay quiet, Gunn removed his hand, put an arm around her and pulled her around the corner. They rushed down one of the many dimly lit hallways. Gunn tried one door only to discover it was locked. Trying the next door, it opened. He pushed Fred through it and followed, locking the door. Then, he hurried to barricade it with a dresser. 

Turning to Fred, he said, “Now, what the hell happened to Wesley?” He picked up a nightstand and set it on top of the dresser. 

Fred shook her head. Everything was confusing. “Somehow he got infected. All I can figure is that it happened while he was working with Billy’s blood from the handprint.” 

Gunn turned and stared at her. “You mean . . . that fingerprint-y-looking handprint downstairs is Billy’s blood?” Fred nodded with a sense of trepidation. “So, you’re saying that _Wes_ turned into a psycho killer because of that bloody handprint that . . . I picked up and looked at?” 

Fred cringed. “When you put it that way, it kind of worries me.” 

Gunn immediately removed the nightstand and started to pull the dresser back. “I better get out of here. Lock the door behind me.” He jumped back when Wesley’s axe started hacking deeper into the wooden panel on the other side of the door. The noise caused a small scream to erupt from Fred. Gunn quickly pushed the dresser against the door and started looking around for an alternative. 

“Well, uh, maybe we go to plan ‘B’,” Gunn said. 

Fred took a step back and let out a scream when one of her feet broke through the floorboards. Gunn’ hand snaked out to catch her before she fell and pulled her away to sturdier flooring. 

“Oh God,” Fred said relieved as she clung to Gunn. She jumped as Wesley’s ax got louder in her ears. She looked up at the vampire hunter. “You know when you said we go to plan ‘B’? What’s plan ‘B’?” 

“Ah, plan B,” Gunn muttered repeatedly as he released Fred to find plan B. 

“Charles?” 

Gunn spun around to face her with inexplicable anger. “Plan B is the one where if you don’t stop whining I bash in your . . .” He stopped and stared wide-eyed at her. “Oh, God.” 

**************************

Angel stood between Billy and Cordelia on the Blim’s private airstrip. He watched Billy as he inched back towards Cordelia. 

“Cordy, get out of here,” Angel told her. 

“No,” she said. 

“Cordelia,” Angel hedged. The last thing he needed in this situation was for Cordelia’s inner bitch to surface and not cooperate with him. 

“I can’t,” she stressed. 

Angel turned to look at her and growled, “ ** _Get out_**!” 

She jumped at his tone, but didn’t move otherwise. “Angel, you can fight this!” 

Playing his favorite role as devil’s advocate, Billy stepped closer. “Don’t fight it . . . feel it! You can, can’t you? All that rage, all that hatred bubbling to the surface? I’ve actually never done this to a vampire. It should be pretty entertaining.” 

“Please go,” Angel pleaded with Cordelia. 

“I can’t,” Cordelia said tearfully. “I have this problem. This is happening to you because of me. Because of _me_. So, I can’t leave you, Angel. I won’t.” 

Angel rounded on her, furious at her stubborn refusal to do as he said. “You think that’s your problem?” He advanced on her like the predator he was. “That’s not your problem. You know what your real problem is?” Cordelia backed up a little. Angel felt a sliver of satisfaction that he was finally getting through to her. “Guys like him!” 

Suddenly, Angel whirled around and hit Billy with all his strength, sending him flying back a few feet to land on the pavement. “Cause you got no power over me.” 

Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief as Billy and Angel started to fight. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Fred startled as Gunn picked up a chair and smashed it against the wall, breaking it into pieces. 

“Charles, you’re scaring me!” She jumped back with a small scream as Gunn came at her with a chair leg in his hand. 

He held it out to her. “Take this and knock me out. Knock me out!” 

“You want me to hit you?” Fred asked bemused. 

Gunn thrust the wooden leg into her hand. “Yes!” 

“I can’t!” Fred shook her head. 

“You might want to!” Gunn insisted. Wesley’s ax busted through another layer of wood in the door. Gunn looked between that and Fred’s tentative hold on the chair leg. “ ** _Hit me_**!” 

“Charles, please . . .” 

“ _Charles, please_ ,” he mocked. “Fine. Then, give it back so I can smash your _stupid_ head with it. Give me the damn chair leg!” 

Fred hauled back and hit him over the head with the chair leg. Gunn dropped to his knees but wasn’t unconscious. 

He glared up at her. “You’re going to pay for that!” 

Fred hit Gunn again and he collapsed face down on the floor, cataleptic. She threw the chair leg aside and jumped as Wesley’s ax cracked through the door behind her. She ran to a dark corner and made herself as small as possible. Gunn was unmoving on the floor in front her. The sounds of Wesley’s ax chopping the door to bits made her jerk in trepidation. 

Fred pulled out the cell phone Angel had given her and hurried to scan the pre-programmed address book. Finding Spike’s number, she sent the call and shuddered while she waited for him to pick up. 

_“Angel, I thought I told you that I didn’t want to--”_

“Spike?” 

There was silence on the other end. _“Fred?”_

“Something’s happened,” Fred shuddered and ducked her head, trying to ignore Wesley’s incessant hacking with the ax. 

_“What’s going on Fred? Why do I hear a banging sound in the background?”_

“That’s because Wesley’s chopping the door down. Spike, something happened to him and Charles. Billy’s blood did something to them,” Fred said. 

_“Billy? Who’s Billy?”_

“He’s the guy Angel saved from a hell dimension in order to save Cordelia from Wolfram  & Hart’s killer visions. Remember?” Fred said. 

_“Yeah, pet. I remember. So, what happened to Percy?”_

“There’s some kind of demon thing with Billy’s blood. Wesley and Gunn touched it and now Wesley’s chopping the door down to get to me,” Fred whispered into the phone. 

_“Where is Gunn?”_

“Knocked out on the floor! Ahh!” she cried as Wesley managed to break through another layer of wood. 

_“Fred, stay calm okay? Where’s Angel and Cordelia?”_

“They went out to look for Billy.” 

_“Bloody bastard left you defenseless,”_ Spike cursed. _“Okay, Fred. I want you to find somewhere safe to hide and use anything you can as a weapon. I’ll get a hold of Angel and tear a layer of flesh off his body for his own stupidity. Nothing is too over the top when you’re trying to stay alive, Fred. Do you what you have to. Don’t worry about hurting anyone as long as you’re alive in the end.”_

“O-okay, hopefully you can talk Angel into hurrying. I’m not really good at staving ax-wielding temporary psychotics, Spike.” 

_“I’ll hurry pet.”_ Spike hung up. 

**************************

At the Blim private airfield, Angel and Billy were still fighting. The vampire tossed Billy through the air. Billy hit the ground rolling and came up on all fours. He smashed both hands against the ground, cracking the pavement as a shockwave radiated from his hands. 

When Angel went after him, Billy tossed him like a toy, now that he was stronger. Cordelia spotted her crossbow lying on the ground. She went to pick it up and aim it at the two adversaries. Angel and Billy changed positions so often she couldn’t get a clear shot. When Angel managed to toss Billy away from him, Cordelia’s finger tightened on the trigger. Gunshots rang out and Billy jerked as bullets hit him and he dropped to the ground. 

Cordelia lowered her crossbow. She and Angel both looked around to see Lilah lowering her pistol. Angel glanced back to Billy and released a breath. Lilah looked at Angel and then turned to walk away. 

Angel’s cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?” 

_“You are such a dick, you know that?”_

“Hello to you too, Spike,” Angel said. 

_“You sent me here to protect the slayer because of your guilt and my girls are down there in danger, without me!”_

“Cordy’s right here. She’s safe,” Angel said angrily. 

_“Fred’s stuck in the hotel with Wesley who’s juiced up on Billy’s blood, you idiot,”_ Spike retorted. 

“Oh, God, Fred!” Angel groaned. 

_“You better get your priorities straightened out right now, Angel. Because if this happens again, I’m coming back! I don’t care about the Slayer or your need to keep her alive. You said the hotel was as much my home as yours. If anything happens to my girls, then I’ll come back! I’ll break every speed limit between Sunnydale and L.A. to hurt anyone who harms them. If I don’t get a good report from Fred in the next half hour, Wesley’s a dead duck.”_

Angel looked at the phone when he heard a click on the other end as Spike hung up on him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley pushed against the door, forcing the dresser back inch by inch. He entered the room and saw Gunn lying unconscious on the floor. However, Fred was nowhere to be seen in the dark room. 

“Would you like to hear my theory, Fred?” Wesley called out. “It’s about how stupid you are. I believe that after five years of living in a cave, you’ll instinctively retreat to small, dark places rather than run outside where you’d be safe.” 

The floor creaked beneath his feet and he glanced down at the tarp covering the floor in front of him. He cautiously walked around the tarp to a closet. 

“Let’s finish this,” Wesley said as he pulled the closet door open. The only thing he saw was a mirror on the inside of the door and Fred standing behind him reflected in the mirror by the moonlight shining through the windows. 

“I’m sorry, Wesley,” she apologized. 

He turned to glare at her. “You’re sorry?” 

“You were right about me liking dark places to hide in,” she said. She shrank back when he raised his ax and slowly stalked closer to her. “But you forgot that I also like to build things.” 

With that, Fred pulled on a rope. Out of the darkness, a fire extinguisher swung free and hit Wesley, knocking him back onto the tarp. The tarp gave away and he fell through the hole in the floor. Fred tentatively moved closer to the hole and looked down to see Wesley sprawled unconscious in the room below. 

She startled again as Angel and Cordelia burst through the open door and skidded to a halt on the other side of the gap in the floor. Angel’s arm shot out to keep Cordelia from falling in. 

Oh my God, Wesley,” Cordelia breathed and covered her mouth. 

“Fred, what happened?” Angel asked as he glanced at Gunn’s inert body lying off to the side. 

“I had to, Angel. I’m sorry. I had to. Survival is more important than anything,” Fred said. 

“Come on Fred, carefully walk towards me,” Angel said, holding out his hand. 

Fred sidestepped the gap in the floor and ran out of the room, leaving Angel and Cordelia to deal with an unconscious Gunn and Wesley. 

**************************

Angel tapped lightly on Fred’s door. “Fred, it’s me.” 

“Come in,” Fred’s sad voice replied. 

He opened the door and walked in to find Fred sitting on the bed with her arms around her drawn-up knees. He shut the door and sat beside her on the bed. 

“How are you?” Angel asked softly. 

“I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me too bad,” Fred replied. 

“I saw the goose egg you gave Gunn,” Angel said with a ghost of a smile. 

“I didn’t want to. He made me hit him,” Fred said apologetically. 

“It’s a good thing you did. You do what you have to, to survive. That’s something I taught Spike.” Angel smiled wistfully at the memory of a young William. “When you said that comment about survival earlier, it surprised me. You called Spike.” 

Fred shook her head. “I didn’t know what else to do. You and Cordelia were busy searching for Billy. I called him and he told me not to worry about anything but staying alive.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she threw herself at Angel. Stunned, all he could do was catch her in a hug. Then she burst into tears, relieved to have survived the nightmare. “I didn’t mean to hurt them so bad. I just needed to get out of there. It was all I could think of.” 

Angel rubbed a hand over her back trying his best to comfort her. It was strange. He was never good at this kind of stuff. “It is okay, Fred. You did what you had to. That’s all that matters. Gunn and Wesley will heal. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here to help you. I’m sorry if the hotel no longer feels like a safe place. I promised you it would be.” 

Fred pulled away to sit beside Angel, laying her head on his shoulder, wiping away her tears. “I would feel safer if Spike was here.” 

“So would I,” Angel agreed. 

He had to figure out a way to fix things with Spike, even if it was just to get his boy back into the hotel. Then, they could work on their problems and hopefully get past them. The thing was he didn’t know how to do that. Spike wasn’t the type to accept an apology so lightly. He’d have to find some way to pay penance before Spike relented enough to come back. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_**

Wesley sat in his dark apartment staring out at the night. The moon shone through one of the windows. There was a knock at the door, but he didn’t move to answer it. 

“Percy, it’s me. Open the bloody door,” Spike yelled through the panel as he beat on it. 

Wesley looked at the door, deciding whether to answer it or not. As far as he knew, Spike was in Sunnydale. So, why would he be here? How did he get here? After a moment, he stood up and trudged slowly to the door. He opened it to see Spike on the other side glaring at him. 

“Hello, Percy,” Spike greeted brusquely. 

“Spike? Why are you . . .?” 

“I think we both know why I’m here. A lovely little bird told me about what happened. That you were somehow infected by demon blood and went a little homicidal,” Spike said. 

Wesley looked at Spike’s feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her or frighten her.” 

“It happens to the best of us. The demon takes over and that rush of power is intoxicating,” Spike sounded understanding. 

“Yes, quite,” Wesley agreed not realizing how close he stood to Spike. 

The blonde vampire stepped closer to the threshold. He’d never been invited into Wesley’s apartment, so he edged as close to the door as possible. Wesley leaned against the doorjamb, looking anywhere but at Spike. 

“No one knows I’m in town. Well, Angel can feel my presence maybe. But, you’re not going to tell them I was even here, Wesley,” Spike stated. 

The former watcher looked up at him confused by the veiled threat. He gasped when Spike reached out and fisted his shirt, yanking him out into the hallway. 

“I may understand what the demon can do. But, you went after _Fred_ and that I will _never_ forgive you for. You _will_ go back into work and you _will_ see her every day. I hope whatever happened between you haunts you for the rest of your life, mate. Every time you see her, remember what you did to her. Because the next time it happens, I won’t think twice about draining you dry.” 

As Spike released Wesley, he fell back against the partly open door. Wesley grabbed the edge of the doorway for balance and watched Spike saunter down the hallway. He hung his head and retreated back into the apartment, closing the door.


	14. Chapter 40-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 40-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 7)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia was in the basement of the hotel arranging some flowers in a vase. That’s how Angel found her when he walked into the training area. Glancing around the room, he discovered that she had decorated the whole room with similar flower arrangements. 

“What’s this?” Angel asked with a confused expression. 

Cordelia glanced back at him and shrugged, returning to her task. “Oh, it’s just so dark and lifeless down here. I thought I’d brighten it up a little for you.” Angel picked up one of the vases. “You can’t exactly go out and enjoy the sunny fields of nature, but that doesn’t mean we can’t bring a little bloom into your darkness.” 

“They’re fake,” Angel observed as he set the vase back down. 

“Yeah, well, you put something real in this hellhole and it will die,” she snapped her fingers, “like that.” 

Angel just looked at her. 

She felt the stare and looked up. “Thank you, Cordelia?” 

“You know, I’ve been around a long time . . .” Angel started to say. 

“Which reminds me,” she cut in. “Next birthday, do you think we could skip the two-hundred and fifty odd candles on the cake and the inevitable fire marshal and just go with a little song?” 

Angel looked amazed at her. “I’ve never known anyone like you.” 

“Well, duh!” Cordelia said incredulously. “Time’s a wastin’, big guy. Can we do this already?” She shifted into fighting stance with her fists up. “Hi-yah!” 

Angel chuckled at her kung fu impersonation. “Okay. Last time we were working on not pulling your punches and your kicks, right? Don’t worry about me.” Cordelia struck out at him and he deflected the punch with his arm. “That’s good.” Cordelia threw another punch at him, which he averted. “Good! Where is your weight?” He looked down, “Balls of your feet?” 

Cordelia swung without thinking and hit Angel across the face with all her strength. Her jaw dropped and she stepped back. “Oops! Oh God, you said that . . .” He straightened up with a smile. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m a vampire. You can’t hurt me,” he assured her. Turning away from her, Angel made a face and gingerly felt his nose for damage. 

“You’re off your game,” Cordelia observed. “Is it because of the prophecy Wes and Gunn and trying to get their hands on? You think the end is coming?” 

Angel turned back to face her. “The end is not coming. Someone is always uncovering some ancient scroll, and they’re always saying the same thing: that something terrible is coming. Do you know many of these things I’ve seen in my very long life?” 

“Four?” 

“Three,” he corrected. “But, there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Then why are Gunn and Wesley breaking and entering right now?” Cordelia asked. 

“‘Breaking and entering’ is such a negative term,” Angel cringed. “They are simply retrieving some missing pieces from the Nyazian Scroll. Just to make sure . . .” 

“That the end is coming,” Cordelia finished. “Well, all we can do is live each moment to the fullest and be grateful that we didn’t throw too much money at the NASDAQ.” 

Angel blinked and lifted a hand towards his face. “Am I swelling?” 

“No,” Cordelia assured him. “I thought you said I couldn’t hurt you?” 

“That was before I knew you took boxing lessons from Joe Frazier,” Angel replied sardonically. He pointed a finger at her as if he were a parent scolding her. “And for the record, I’m not two hundred and fifty . . . yet. I’m two hundred and forty-eight.” 

“Potato, potawto,” Cordelia shrugged. “Are you going to train me or whine until you _are_ two-hundred and fifty?” 

Angel’s shoulders slumped. “Now, I don’t know if I even want to train you. Making digs at my age is hitting a little below the belt.” 

“Come on, you big baby, suck it up and take it like a man,” Cordelia said with a cheeky grin. 

Angel looked at her, his eyes crinkled at the corners with humor. “Been spending too much time with Spike learning how to push my buttons?” 

Cordelia shifted into fighting stance. “Speaking of the blonde wonder, have you tried to talk to him?” 

“I tried through the link, he’s still upset with me,” Angel grumbled as he stepped up behind her to direct her movements. 

“Have you tried more conventional methods, like say, a phone?” 

“Cordy, I don’t want to talk about this. We’ll fix our problems on our schedule. Spike and I aren’t like your soap operas where we can fix it in a week,” Angel replied. 

Cordelia shrugged. “You brought him up.” 

Fred slowly made her way down the stairs to the basement and watched them. 

“Ouch. That doesn’t feel right,” Cordelia said. 

“Just relax. You have to bend,” Angel instructed. 

“I don’t bend there,” Cordelia said. Angel moved her the way he wanted her. “Okay. Now that’s downright unnatural.” 

“I know it feels strange, but if an attacker comes at you from behind, you want to be able to shift all your weight immediately to your other foot so you can spin and kick. Here, you try it,” Angel said. 

Cordelia spun around and kicked up against Angel’s chest. He caught her with an arm around her leg and the other arm around her waist to keep her from falling. 

“Whoa! Easy, all right? That’s all right,” he praised her as he lowered her leg and released her. “That’s better. We’ll keep . . . working on it. That’s probably enough for today.” 

“Yeah, well, we could do more of this, but then I’d have to ice every bone in my body. See ya!” She made a quick exit. Well, as quick as one could make when they were favoring a sore back. Seeing Fred on the steps, she greeted, “Hey, Fred,” as she walked past, climbing the stairs. 

“Hey!” Fred smiled. 

Fred watched her leave. “She’s such a hero with the visions and courage.” She squealed when she turned and saw the flower arrangements, “Oh, plastic flowers!” She hurried over to one of the vases, “My favorite! They never fade, you know?” So engrossed was Angel as he watched her indulge in the fake flowers that her next question surprised him. “Have you talked to Spike yet?” 

Angel hung his head, “Not you too. Look, as I told Cordy, Spike and I will make up sooner or later. You can’t rush reconciliation.” 

“You know, if you hadn’t sent him away . . .” Fred commented. 

Angel ground his teeth. If Fred were anyone else, he would throttle her for the never-ending guilt trip. He and Spike would deal with their issues. They had accumulated a lot of them over their long history and he was sure Spike invented a few of them out of boredom. 

“What’s going on down here?” Wesley asked from the landing at the bottom of the stairs. 

_Distraction from this topic, thy name is Wesley. There was a God!_

“Nothing,” Angel said all too quickly. 

“I believe Fred’s been through enough recently without people shouting at her,” Wesley said. 

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Fred said, hoping she sounded assuring even as she involuntarily took a step closer to Angel. 

Wesley must have seen the movement and looked guiltily at the floor. He couldn’t blame her for being wary of him after all he’d said and done to her. 

Angel felt the awkwardness in the air between them, and couldn’t miss Fred plastered against his side. He cleared his throat and asked, “Is there something you wanted?” 

“Uh, yes,” Wesley replied. He looked at Fred, “Gunn and I were hoping you could give us a hand with the Nyazian Prophecies. We need someone who can do the math.” 

Angel gave her arm a comforting squeeze. She took a deep breath for courage before nodding, “Sure,” and made a beeline for the stairs, rushing up the steps. 

Angel and Wesley watched her leave. Wesley looked crushed as Fred squeezed by him and fled up the stairs. Then, Angel turned around to put the weapons away that he used to train Cordelia. “She’ll come around Wes, give her time.” 

Wesley frowned at Angel’s back and looked around at the multitude of vases. “Who gave you the flowers?” 

Angel spun around so quick that he bumped into the cabinet, “Nobody!” 

**************************

Gunn passed the time by throwing darts at a board in the manager’s office. Wesley sat at the desk, writing while Fred sat as far away as she could and huddled at the corner of the desk, working on the laptop. Cordelia was on the computer at her own desk. 

“So, how are you doing there, Fred?” Gunn inquired. 

“Oh, it’s a simple equation really. The ancient Roman calendar has fourteen hundred and sixty-four days in a four-year cycle. The Etruscan, Sumerian and Druidian each have their own cycles. You work forward from the presumed day of the prophecy under each calendar, factoring in our own three hundred and sixty-five day calendar and accounting for a three day discrepancy for every four years and . . .” 

Gunn zoned out on her half way through. He knew asking a simple question would probably be a bad thing, but he just couldn’t bite his tongue hard enough to keep from asking. 

Angel walked into the lobby from the basement and saw Cordelia at her desk. He stopped before the rest of the team knew he was there. 

Fred stopped in mid tangent and looked at the computer. “Oh. This can’t be right . . . unless the world ended last March.” 

“So, are we talking Armageddon or bad house number?” Gunn asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Wesley. “Is it a bad event or a bad guy?” 

“Uh, it’s not clear on that,” Wesley replied. “It predicts the arrival or arising of the Tro-clan, the person or being that brings about the ruination of mankind.” 

“So it’s a two-for-one?” Gunn raised a brow. “Isn’t that nice?” 

“And I’m not sure on the translation. Ruination may in fact mean purification,” Wesley said thoughtfully. 

“So, this Tro-clan is a good thing?” Gunn inquired, sounding hopeful. 

“I doubt that,” Wesley said. “But it’s purification in Aramaic, ruination in ancient Greek and in the lost Ga-shundi language it means both.” 

“And you don’t want to make the same mistake twice,” Cordelia called out, looking up from her screen at Wesley who immediately looked back at his papers, averting her gaze. 

“No,” Wesley agreed. 

“What mistake?” Fred asked curiously. 

Wesley coughed to clear his throat. “There was another, uh, prophecy a while back. It seemed to be about Angel and contained the word ‘Shanshu’ which I thought meant to die and I . . . sort of told Angel . . .” 

“That he was going to die,” Cordelia finished. 

“Oh, no,” Fred gasped. 

“Then, I found out it also meant to live. It meant to die and to live,” Wesley said. 

“So, which is it?” Fred asked. 

“Both,” Wesley replied. “In his case it meant that some day the vampire in him might die, but the human in him might live.” 

“He would be like a normal man?” Fred surmised. 

“Yes,” Wesley confirmed and went back to reading. 

“Wow,” Fred said mystified. “What would we do if that happened?” 

“I’d buy him some plaid shirts and take him to the beach. The boy needs some color,” Cordelia said flippantly as Fred went back to typing on the laptop. 

“There,” Fred said, sitting back to admire her skills. “That came out better,” then, double-checked her findings. “Oh. No it didn’t. It’s still very preliminary, but – if these calculations are correct, this bad thing should already be here.” She looked up. “Well, I-I guess not right here, but – here in L.A. Let me run these numbers again.” 

Angel walked around the reception desk and sat down. 

“Hey,” Cordelia greeted. 

“Hey.” 

Cordelia went back to work, but after a while of feeling Angel’s eyes on her, she glanced over, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Ah,” Angel cleared his throat, “No reason.” 

A few minutes later, Cordelia stood up and walked past him to pour a cup off coffee. “Okay, it’s getting creepy now.” 

“I was just thinking about things. People, you know? How they relate. Take you and me for instance. We’re very different. _Very_ different, obviously,” Angel said. He pointed at her, “Human,” then, himself, “Vampire.” Pointing at her again, he said, “Woman,” then, himself, “Man . . . pire.” 

Cordelia gave him a curious look and raised a brow. “Has someone been putting vodka in your blood?” 

Angel laughed, remembering the time Spike had been experimental with his blood. “See? You’re funny! And I, well I get off a good one every once in a while, but you . . .” 

“Angel, are you trying to say you love me?” Cordelia asked as she sipped her coffee. 

“What?” Angel asked in a shocked voice. Sure he loved her, but not the way she made it sound. He was with Spike. Well, not physically, but he was working on that. 

“I love you too,” Cordelia shrugged. 

“You do?” he croaked. “When did this . . .?” 

“Angel loves me. I love him!” Cordelia yelled towards the office door. 

“Oh, my, God,” Angel said as his jaw dropped. 

“You guys love us and we love you,” Cordelia called out. 

“We love you Angel!” Fred, Gunn and Wesley chorused. 

“They were all saying it earlier,” Cordelia gestured towards the office with her coffee cup. “Just in case this prophecy thing comes true and we all die. You’re not going to want to hug, are you?” 

Angel cleared his throat and sat back, shaking his head. “No.” 

Cordelia went back to her desk. “God knows we’ve been through a lot together.” 

“That’s really what I was trying to say, that we’ve been through so much together, you and me, as _friends_ ,” Angel stressed. “You’ve seen the – good – and the not so good.” 

Cordelia turned around from placing her cup on the desk and said, “Just like you have in me, and for the record: the good I’ve seen so far outweighs the bad.” 

Angel looked flattered, “Thanks, you too.” 

Cordelia shrugged, “Hey, what are friends for?” 

Just then, Cordelia’s body jerked against the desk knocking her coffee cup over and she nearly fell to the floor. Angel’s quick reflexes caught her in time. Her body rocked back in his arms as convulsions rocked her body. 

“Christ, Cordy, can you hear me?” Angel asked, “Cordelia?” 

She cried out as another wave of the vision knocked her for a loop. Her screams had Wesley, Gunn and Fred running out of the office. They skidded to a halt and watched helplessly as she trembled with the vision. After a full minute, she calmed down. 

“Cordy?” Angel inquired tentatively. 

“I’m fine,” she said when she could finally breathe again. 

“What did you see?” he asked. 

“Big spiny monster, at the corner of third and Venice, terrorizing a local hang out there,” Cordelia replied. 

Angel looked up and nodded to the others. Gunn and Wesley made a beeline for the weapons cabinet and left the hotel. Fred went in search of the mop and a bucket. 

Angel turned his attention back to Cordelia. She staggered to her desk and sat down heavily on the chair, holding her head in her hands. He went to the kitchen to get aspirin and some water for her. 

Taking the glass and pill from him when they were handed to her, she said, “I have to get a mop and clean up the coffee.” 

“Don’t worry about the coffee. Fred’s gone to get a mop,” Angel assured her. He watched her take the aspirin and toss back the water. “They’re getting worse aren’t they?” 

“No more than usual,” Cordelia lied. 

“Cordelia.” It was a statement. “They are getting worse. Maybe you should go on a little vacation? Just for the weekend? Go up to Sunnydale and stay with Spike. You can use that tub, put your feet up and _relax_.” 

Cordelia looked at him. “What if I have a vision while I’m there?” 

“I doubt you will, but if that happens, call it in. You need to rest,” Angel stressed as he pulled her up out of the chair. “Go get your coat. I’ll drive you up there.” 

“But what about Fred, you can’t leave her by herself,” Cordelia protested. 

“Fred will be fine for a few hours,” Angel said, pushing her forward. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike was flipping through the channels when he heard pounding on his front door. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was 1:00 a.m. The pounding echoed through the mansion. Figuring that it couldn’t be the slayer, as she would have just walked in uninvited, Spike got up and answered it. 

Yanking the door open, he said, “You don’t need to pound on the bloody --” He stopped when he saw Cordelia with her purse and an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. “Cordy?” 

“Hey,” she said cheerily and gestured behind her, “Do you know there’s a parade of demons doing the bunny hop down Main Street?” 

Spike gripped the door handle and leaned against the frame. He gave her a confused look, trying to work out why she was standing on his doorstep and how she got there. However, she didn’t wait for him to come to a conclusion. 

“What the hell happened to this town? There’re demons dancing and singing. It’s like a really bad production of **_Our Town_** ,” she said, walking past him into the house pulling a big bag on wheels behind her. 

He watched her confused more than anything. “Were there moving plans I didn’t know about?” 

“It reminds of that Halloween spell with the crazy costumes that turned people into what they were dressed as,” Cordelia rambled on, then stopped and spun around to face him. “So, where can I put my stuff?” 

Spike had enough sense to close the door. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at her. “Why are you here and how did you get here anyway?” 

“Oh, Angel dropped me off,” Cordelia said as an afterthought. 

Spike raised a brow. “Angel was here? And he didn’t stop to see me?” 

“He thought you would still be mad at him,” she replied. 

“Well I am. It’s only common courtesy to see a bloke you’re mated to when you’re in town,” Spike said as he rushed out to the street. Then, yelled out into the stark night, “Come back you wanker, can’t you face me! You would invade my mind but not talk face to face?” 

“Spike, calm down, let’s talk about this!” Cordelia yelled from the doorway. 

As he stalked back into the house and slammed the door, Spike asked, “Okay, cheerleader, why did Angel drop you off?” He looked at her with a critical eye, “You are okay, right? You’re not dying, are you?” 

She shook her head, “Oh, nothing like that. I just had a bad reaction to the last vision I had. Angel thought it best that I rested.” 

“Angel’s not looking after my girls at all,” Spike said quietly then eyed her with concern. “What’s wrong with you luv?” 

“Don’t know, Spike,” Cordelia said. “The visions just seem to get worse every time.” 

Grabbing the handle of the bag on wheels, he led the way to a vacant bedroom. “Come on, pet, let’s get you settled.” 

“So, what’s the tub like?” Cordelia asked as she followed him. He gave her a smirk over his shoulder than sent shivers down her spine. 

Spike left Cordelia alone to draw her own bath and went out to buy food fit for a human. His cupboards and fridge were bare since he had not expected to play host to a living, breathing person who wasn’t at death’s door. 

He returned an hour later with a few bags full of food and a bag of take-out. He took his time putting everything away. While he was busy, her voice filtered in through the bathroom door and down the hall. He cringed at the horrible off-key noise. He walked down the hall and knocked on the bathroom door. 

“I was walking with a ghost,” Cordelia’s voice could be heard singing off-key. “I said please, please don’t insist!” 

“Hey, Cindy Lauper, when you finished with the mirror show, I got food out here,” Spike yelled through the door. 

“Eep!” Cordelia shrieked in surprise and slunk down into the water, even though the bathroom door never opened. She was so used to Dennis the Ghost that Spike’s voice was unexpected. 

Spike smirked at the closed door and walked back to the living room. A few minutes later, Cordelia came out and ran naked to the bedroom designated to her. Putting on a nightshirt and underwear under a full-length terrycloth robe, she went to the kitchen and fixed something to eat. 

Armed with a heavy-duty paper plate, heaped with food, she went into the living room and sat on the couch with her legs curled under her. 

“So, what are we watching?” she asked around the first bite. 

Spike turned to address her and his mouth dropped open. “What are you eating on my couch?” 

“Food?” 

“I can see that! Why?” Spike asked agitated. 

“Cause the TV’s in here and I thought the dining room would be too formal?” Cordelia suggested. 

Spike growled softly. “You spill any of that in here and I don’t care if you are Queen C, you’ll be cleaning it up.” 

“I don’t make a mess, Spike,” she said, sounding sure of her. 

Spike raised a curious brow. “I’ve seen you eat, you dozy bint.” 

“Okay, that one time it was because of a vision and the other time was because Gunn tried to kick Wesley under the table and got me instead,” she said defensively. “Oh hey, could you flip the channels? I want to see if there is anything on worth watching.” 

Spike flipped through the channels until she shrieked and caused him to jump. 

“Oh, leave it here!” 

“Bloody hell,” Spike groaned when he saw it was **_Smallville_**. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel plopped down on the settee in the middle of the lobby. After he returned from Sunnydale, Angel joined Wesley and Gunn in fighting the thing in Cordelia’s vision. Now he was just tired of it all. He sat back with his eyes closed, a half an ear to the team discussion of the Tro-Clan prophesies. 

Cordelia tried to get him to go in and see Spike, talk to him. But, after the shower scene, Angel didn’t feel that it was a good idea. The way he saw it, Spike wouldn’t be too happy to see him on his doorstep. So, he’d let Cordelia out at the street and drove back to L.A. thinking of Spike the whole way. Their relationship seemed so much easier last year. Sure, there was Wolfram  & Hart and Darla intruding, but there were good times too. And when they went on that retreat after Buffy died. He should have realized that things were going too good. 

Angel was pulled out of his thoughts when he and the others turned at the sound of the front entrance doors banged and Lorne waltzed into the lobby. 

“Hello, destroyers of all that’s good and enjoyable in this dimension,” Lorne greeted. “I figured I’d come and crash your little party, since my place looks like a bombed out shelter _after_ the Martians hit it with napalm.” 

Angel’s brow furrowed at that. “Martians have napalm?” 

“Don’t know if they actually do and don’t care,” Lorne said offhandedly. “What I can say is that I have the Furies over there working their magic.” His gaze became wistful for a second, “Those three lovely beauties.” He shrugged. “Anyway, they’re over there recasting the sanctuary spell to prevent violence in the club. And this time I’m covering demons _and_ humans. I’m opening the club again. Now if I can just keep you from tearing it asunder. Some of us demons are law abiding, peaceful and need to make a living, you know?” 

“That’s great, Lorne!” Fred said cheerily. 

“So, what are you up to, anything interesting?” Lorne asked. 

“Some prophecy Wesley found,” Gunn replied. 

“The Nyazian Prophecies mention a Tro-Clan. I’m researching it now,” Wesley said distractedly. 

“It’s supposed to be here about now,” Fred added. 

“Born out of darkness to bring darkness,” Lorne translated. “Huh. It’s never a sunshine-y meadow in your neck of the woods, is it?” 

Angel threw up his hands and fell against the backrest of the settee, “Great, the arrival of the scourge of mankind. What else could possibly go wrong? These stupid prophesies! You can always interpret them a hundred ways from Sunday.” He looked at Fred. “How do we even know your calculations are correct?” 

“I don’t. I’m still working on them,” Fred replied and went back to typing equations. After a moment, she looked up. “Can I just say something?” She stood up and walked over to lean on the reception desk. “Screw this and whatever destiny throws our way. If this evil thing comes, we’ll fight it. And, we’ll keep fighting it until we whoop it. ’Cause destiny is just another word for inevitable and nothing’s inevitable as long as you stand up, look it in the eye, and say ‘you’re evitable!’” Everyone stared at her in silence. The scrutiny made her blush. “Well, you—you catch my drift.” 

Lorne stared at her in awe. “Wow. I like her so much!” 

“I want to see these prophecies myself, and your calculations, Fred, and anything else we got on this,” Angel said as he stood up and walked over to the desk. 

***************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

“Cordy, why are you making me watch this?” Spike asked. 

“I’m not making you watch anything. You’re the one with the remote,” Cordelia said. 

“Just like a woman. Force me to stay on the channel of your choosing, but I’m the one with the control. Are you sure you aren’t a dominatrix in secret, pet?” Spike asked. 

“Well, turn it over if you don’t want to watch **_The Real World_** ,” Cordelia said. 

“And risk having my balls handed to me? Not a chance,” Spike scoffed. 

Cordelia snatched the remote from him and put it on HBO with some odious movie that had gratuitous violence. “There, better?” 

Just then, a pounding on the door echoed through the house. Spike’s head fell back against the couch and he groaned. Cordelia looked at him. 

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” 

“Not if I can bloody well help it. For a supposedly quiet little town, there are a lot of unwanted social calls,” Spike said and then grunted when she elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Fine, I’ll answer it,” she said and got up. She stepped over his propped up legs and headed for the door. 

She opened it just as Buffy was about to slam it open from the other side. Cordelia watched as Buffy marched in the house, oblivious to her presence, “Rude much? Hello to you, too. I see you still haven’t learned any manners.” 

She shut the door and went back to the living room. Buffy was there, standing over Spike with her hands on her hips and an annoyed expression. Spike looked at her with indifference. 

“The sun sets and she appears,” he addressed Cordelia while gesturing towards Buffy. “Something I can do for you, Slayer?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve been outside this mausoleum of a house in the last twenty-four hours, but the whole town is under some sort of spell, where there’s singing and dancing,” Buffy said. 

“It’s like a horrible musical out there, if you ask me,” Cordelia said, returning to her seat next to Spike. 

“Well, no one asked you,” Buffy sneered. “Why are you here anyway, Cordelia?” 

“Trying to have a relaxing weekend retreat,” Cordelia commented. 

“So no singing or dancing here?” Buffy said, addressing Spike. 

“Nope,” he took a swig of his drink, “Can say we remain immune to the town’s latest epidemic. Want a drink?” 

“A world of no,” Buffy said, remembering the last time she drank with him. “So any idea what’s causing this?” 

“Oh, that’s it then?” Spike raised a brow. “You’ve just come to pump me for information?” 

Buffy’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What else would I want to pump you for?” Realizing what just came out of her mouth, she cringed. “I really just said that, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, well . . . don’t want to bore you with the small talk,” Spike shrugged and jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the front door. “I don’t know a thing, glad you could stop by. Get out.” 

Buffy frowned at Spike’s sharp reply. “What’s up? You’re all bad moody.” 

“It’s nothing,” Spike sighed heavily. 

“What?” Buffy asked again. 

“Oh, Miss Cry-Buffy comes here, walks in without a word, just to have a stand off, and says Spike is in a bad mood?” Cordelia said as she surveyed the scene. 

“So, the ex-Queen C, the deposed Queen of Sunnydale High complains about how I treat Spike?” Buffy shot back. 

“I’m still Queen C, just not of this town,” Cordelia rolled her eyes heavenward, “Thank God!” 

“Yeah, she’s quite the little Hollywood starlet down in L.A.,” Spike teased. 

“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy snapped. 

That got Cordelia’s hackles up. She stood up and with her hands on her hips, crowded into Buffy’s space. “Spike was better off with us, we were a team! He came here reluctantly to help you. Is he a member of your team? No! You’re mean to him. Expect him to jump when you call. There’s no incentives, no friendships,” Cordelia ranted. 

“I didn’t ask him to come back,” Buffy yelled. 

“You may not have asked him to come back, but you sure as hell didn’t say no. You have your Scoobies to question and do research for you. They should be getting good at it by now. You don’t need Spike.” 

“If he’s going to be living in my town he better make himself useful,” Buffy said as she glared at a smirking blonde menace. 

“I can’t believe I tried to be friends with you!” Cordelia yelled back. “You only want people around that can be useful to your mission. No wonder Angel left you! You’re selfish, inconsiderate . . .” 

“Look who’s talking? You were a complete snobbish bitch in high school. _We_ were only useful to you when you needed us to save you from the weekly Big Bad,” Buffy shot back. 

Spike took a long swig of his drink, set it down on the end table and got to his feet. He edged closer to the squabbling women and put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Ladies, ladies, as much as I appreciate it, there’s no need to fight over me. Really, I’m flattered that I could cause this much trouble among the populace. As entertaining as it is to watch you two verbally battle this out, and I was hoping to witness a possible Jell-O-wrestling match in my living room . . . Can we get back to the issue at hand like the Scoobies? Maybe they can come up with something.” 

Both girls stood their ground glaring at each other. Spike carefully moved to wrap his arm around Buffy’s shoulders and steered her towards the door. “You better go Buffy, Cordy needs to rest.” 

Buffy resisted Spike’s escort and spun back around to face Cordelia. She stepped closer to examine her face. “You are looking a little peaked around the eyes. Makes someone wonder what you’ve really been doing in L.A.” 

“None of your business, Buffy!” Cordelia snapped. “This is your town. What happens in L.A. has _nothing_ to do with you.” 

Spike stepped behind Buffy and pushed her towards the door. “ _Okay_! It’s been nice seeing you, Slayer. It’s been fun. We should do it again sometime. Now, why don’t you go find your watcher and merry band of researchers to help hunt down the evil demon that turned our fair town into a wacky version of **_Bed Knobs and Broomsticks_**?” 

“Spike I wasn’t finished!” Buffy said as she was herded towards the door. 

Spike opened said door and shoved her out onto the doorstep. “Yes, you were. Have a nice night,” he said before shutting the door in her face and locking it. 

He sagged back against the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Buffy walk away. He was sure that she’d be kicking on the door and throwing a fit. He looked up when he heard Cordelia walk closer and stop in the doorway leading to the living room. 

“Jeez, you’d think she’d matured. With her being dead and all. Who does she think she is? Why do you put up with that?” Cordelia said as she leaned against the entryway. 

“If anything, our little Buff still has some growing up to do. She is of the mindset that she’s the only one chosen to fight evil and the rest of us better fall in line or get out of the way,” Spike said as he pushed away from the door and walked past her into the living room, “As for _why_ I put up with it? Ask your former boss.” 

Cordy realized she had made a slight mistake. What with Angel bringing her here to be looked after – or as Spike might think, babysat – reminding him why he was here with Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies. It wasn’t painting Angel in a good light. 

“Does Angel know she’s like that?” Cordelia asked as she followed Spike back to the couch. 

Spike scoffed as he raised his glass to take a drink. “Does he know? He still views her through the rose-colored glasses of his first love and soul mate. _He_ still thinks she is the sweet sixteen-year-old he fell in love with and started acting like a lovesick teenager over. He doesn't know the real Buffy. Even after all this time, he is still the same old Buffy-whipped Angelus.” He emptied the glass and stared at it with disdain. “God, I could use a drink.” He glanced over at Cordelia who watched him with a devastated expression. “Want a stiff drink, luv? I know I’m going to have another one.” 

Spike strode over to the bar and poured himself a whiskey, downing it in one gulp from a tumbler glass. Feeling Cordelia’s eyes on him, he turned his head to look at her. She still had the same distraught look on her face. Pouring himself another drink, he turned completely towards her and leaned on the bar. 

“Don’t give me that look, Cordy. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anyone’s pity. Angel and I have had a century of women coming between us. Buffy isn’t the first and she won’t be the last.” Cordelia’s expression shifted to surprise. “Oh, don’t give that one either, princess. I never expected hearts and flowers from him. Our relationship is what it is.” 

Cordy raised tired eyes to Spike, she was still not back to her full strength after the vision that had sent Angel bringing her to Spike. There was more to be said. Spike and Angel had more of a relationship than Spike thought. She was a woman, and spent a lot of time with Angel. She knew the depths of his feelings for Spike. Angel had a soul. Spike was still thinking about Angelus, not her Angel. 

“Spike, Angel’s different. He’s not Angelus,” Cordelia started to say. 

Spike set the tumbler down on the bar top harder than he intended, causing her to jump. “Don’t give me that ‘he’s different now that he has a soul’ bit. I know him a lot better than you do, pet. Angel may be at the forefront, but Angelus is inside him, deep down. And _Angel_ is more worried about Buffy. He thinks he’s making big sacrifices for the greater good, damn anything else.” 

Spike gestured wildly as he started on another rant. “I told him when Darla came back into the picture, that when he finally decided what he wanted he knew where to bloody well find me. Well, guess what? Enter petite blonde number two, with her shampoo commercial hair and her damsel-in-distress pout, and BAM!” He clapped his hands with a resounding smack that echoed through the room. “He’s off panting at her heels and what about me? He has me playing babysitter to the little chit until he deems her fit to be on her own.” 

Cordy knew that Fred’s campaign, as well as her own, was hitting a rough spot. They were working on Angel, but Spike was a hard nut to crack. They had history that neither girl knew about. The mention of Darla reminded her of that. 

“There has to be something, Spike,” she implored. 

“I told him that I finally felt like I belonged in L.A. The next thing I know he’s shipped me back here _with_ Buffy. I’ll rot in soddin’ hell before I open myself up like that again. You see kindhearted Angel trying to make amends for his sins and that’s great. But, I know the truth. The way I see it, he’s trying to ease a guilty conscience. Well, he can take that guilty conscience and stick it as far as it will go in his oversized, ego-inflated --” 

“Enough Spike!” Cordelia yelled, cutting him off as she rubbed her temples. 

His face fell and he went over to her. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he guided her back to her bedroom. “Oh pet, of course you’re still tired. Shouldn't lay this on you. Come on, let’s get you some rest.” 

Spike opened the door and ushered her inside. He was about to help her into bed when she stopped him. 

“Spike, I can climb into bed on my own. I’m not sick, just worn out,” Cordelia said. 

“You can take the robe off in front of me. Spent plenty of time playing nursemaid to Drusilla,” Spike shrugged as he turned the bedcovers down. 

“No, that’s fine. If you could just give me some privacy,” Cordelia hedged. 

He looked up at her and came into eye contact with her robe-covered bust line. 

“Are you naked under there?” he wiggled his brows. 

“Jeez, Spike! Just get out,” she said, pushing him towards the door. 

“You are! You’re completely naked under there and have been the whole night. Sitting on the couch next to me, eating . . . naked!” Spike said as she pushed him out the door. 

“I’m not naked!” she said as she slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Too late, pet,” he chuckled. “I already have a good image in my head of what you might look like!” 

*************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“Uh-oh,” Fred said behind her laptop. She tentatively looked up at the assembled members of Angel Investigations, sans Cordelia. The remaining trio looked at her waiting for her to continue. “Remember before when I said I thought that maybe, possibly, perhaps I might have been off in my earlier calculations? And you asked Wes if he thought if the Tro-clan was prophesied to _arise_ or _be born_ and he said it could be both? And we all know that the Latin for arrive is arripare, to come to the margin or shore, or possibly in this instance simply to come to, as from a deep sleep?” 

“Fred!” Angel and Wesley interrupted the babble. 

“Right, I believe that whatever this thing is, it’s arriving right about . . .” she looked at her watch, “three, two . . . now.” 

**************************

**_Under a Busy Section of Los Angeles, Night_**

In a chamber pillars, a stone statue and two bowls used as ceremonial sconces formed an equilateral triangle in the center of the room, supported underground lighted by torches, with a ceiling. 

A demon walked into the room and stopped in front of the statue. “The weight of time is heavy on the world. And all men born must die. But, there are worlds unknown where dreamers dream and sleepers sleep, and patiently await. As pledged in Celadon by Cod-she,” the demon stepped back and threw powder at the statue. One shall awaken in the first year of the final century. That one, who lived before and joined Cod-she in the great sleep. Arise, as was promised and foretold. Arise. - Arise!” 

Nothing happened. The demon turned away and walked over to one of the flames, using it to light his cigarette. He turned back to watch the statue as he smoked. He checked his watched and took another drag. 

Suddenly the room began to shake and blue light flashed. The eyes of the statue suddenly turned into two open, human eyes. The statue cracked then crumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust. The demon put out his cigarette and walked over to the figure huddled in the middle of what’s left of the statue. 

“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” the demon greeted as he crouched down and put a hand on the figure’s back. “Angelus is here. You’ll see him soon. You haven’t used your muscles in a very long time. It will be a while before you’re strong enough to . . .” 

The figure suddenly got to his feet, “Just tell me where he is.” 

An hour later, Holtz sat in a chair watching the last two hundred years of history play across the strange device, Sahjhan called a television set. Said demon stood behind him, watching his reaction to seeing world history in a nutshell. He met the time traveler a millennia ago when the demon promised him revenge on Angelus for what the vampire and his companion, Darla, did to his family. 

“I know it seems like only a moment to you,” Sahjhan said. “But, two hundred and twenty-seven years have passed since our agreement. Empires have rose and fallen. Mankind has harnessed the power of the sun, walked on the moon, and turned arid deserts into fields of green.” 

“What of England? Has it survived the years and destruction?” Holtz asked. 

“Yes. It went through a rough patch about sixty years ago, but it’s mostly unchanged. There’s still warm beer, boiled meat, and bad teeth. That’s why I moved to LA. Have you followed this part of the history: American Revolution, manifest destiny, westward expansion, and the Beach Boys?” Sahjhan inquired. 

“I understand enough. One thing baffles me,” Holtz gestured at the TVs, “These visions, wars, the weapons of destruction. How is it no one has killed Angelus or Darla?” 

“That’s why I brought you here, remember?” Sahjhan said, “Because your fate and their fate are entwined.” 

Holtz had enough of the images flickering on the screen. He was ready to hunt Angelus down and pay for the atrocities against his family. “Let’s go. Let’s finish this. I want Angelus.” 

Sahjhan stepped closer. “I know. I want him, too. But we’re going to do it right. I haven’t waited two and a half centuries to mess it all up.” 

“You’ve been tracking them this entire time?” Holtz asked surprised. 

“Yes, but not in the way you imagine. There are other dimensions, other worlds where time behaves differently. I have an ability to navigate those dimensions,” Sahjahn explained. 

“And is that why you haven’t aged?” 

“That, and I had a little work done, mostly around the eyes,” Sahjhan replied glibly. “Now, get some rest. You’re going to need it.” With that, he left Holtz to watch the images on the many television screens.


	15. Chapter 40-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 40-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 7)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel looked out the windows at the graying sky. Dawn was fast approaching. He’d been up in his room since Wesley took over researching the scrolls. He remembered a time when he did his own research, but Wesley was a former Watcher. All they were taught to do was research and record the lives of Slayers. It left Angel with nothing to do but sit and wait . . . and brood. 

His thoughts often drifted to Spike when he was left too long to think. Why had he sent Spike back with Buffy? It wasn’t like she couldn’t take care of herself. She was still a Slayer. When she was alive before, Spike spent more time with him than in Sunnydale and she had been fine by herself. In fact, the only reason he sent Spike back before Buffy’s death was to keep Darla away from Lindsey. 

Now, Spike was so upset with him that the link between them was dimmed. All he could feel was a Sire’s blood-link. Spike had shut him out of his mind. If Angel tried to slip in, he’d sense the familiar warmth of his mate enveloping him similar to entering a cocoon, but then he’d hit a brick wall. 

He wondered how Cordelia was coping with being in Sunnydale again, if Spike was looking after her, if she was getting the rest she needed. The visions were getting worse. Angel could tell. He had noticed before, but since Cordelia hadn’t said anything he hadn’t either. The last vision really did a number on her. He hoped she was okay. 

A knock on his bedroom door brought Angel out of his thoughts and he moved away from the window. As if cued, the sun peeked over the horizon just as Angel retreated to the shadows. 

“Come in,” Angel said as he sat in his favorite wingback chair. Gunn walked in followed by Wesley, Fred and Lorne. 

“Sorry to intrude,” Wesley said in greeting. “We had a bit of a breakthrough with the Nyazian Scroll translation. I thought you should know.” 

Wesley was about to go on when Fred broke in with her rambling speech. “It turns out that some of the irregular verbs Wes was using were problematic when converted to Ga-shundi because of the Nyazian trick of converting both nouns and verbs which he discovered by . . .” Angel was completely lost and had momentarily forgotten why they were even standing in his suite. Fred ducked her head sheepishly, “Sorry. I’ll shut up now so he can tell you what he figured out.” 

“Right,” Wesley nodded and turned to an expectant vampire. “The Tro-clan isn’t a person or persons, but a confluence of events.” 

“It means that it not only involves you and us, but other horrible things we don’t know about,” Gunn added. 

“That’s good . . . right?” Angel asked unsure of what he was hearing. 

“Not necessarily,” Wesley stammered. “There are a few Nyazian phrases related specifically to something being born or arising that I haven’t been able to complete.” 

Angel slumped in his chair with a tired sigh as he rubbed his eyes. “It’s important that you do.” 

“It would really help if we had a couple extra eyes researching, Angel, like say an adorable vision girl or a person with knowledge in other languages,” Lorne hedged. 

“No, Spike is busy doing something else. Besides, he doesn’t know Ge-shundi,” Angel stated. 

“ _Ga-shundi_ ,” Wesley corrected, “And it’s not like Buffy can’t take of herself for a while. We could really use the help here.” 

“Look, maybe with Spike here and constantly around, you two can work out your problems,” Fred suggested. 

Angel’s head hit the back of the chair. He pulled himself to his feet. “Spike won’t talk to me with the telepathic link we developed. What makes you think he’ll want to come down here in the guise of helping with research to talk to me now?” 

“It’s not a _guise_ , Angel. He _will_ be here helping with research. As a by-product, you two will be able to sort out whatever strange issues vampires have,” Wesley said. 

Angel gave him a weird look. “We don’t have _strange vampire issues_. We just hit a rough patch in the relationship. We’ll get over it sooner or later.” 

“I think I speak for all of us when I suggest that it should be sooner,” Gunn said. When Angel’s eyes narrowed on him, he explained, “I’d just like to know your head was back in the game and not so distracted with whatever’s going on with Spike. We don’t know what this Tro-clan is. Does it have teeth? Can we chop off its head? Does it even have a head? See, these are the things we should be worried about, not whether you’re going to sit up here and brood over why Spike’s pissed at you, man. ’Cause chances are he is, and I think you should both get over it for all involved.” 

Wesley nodded in agreement. “Gunn is right, Angel. We have a situation on our hands right now that needs attention. You being distracted is not helping.” 

“I’m not distracted,” Angel said in an aggravated tone. “I just have a lot on my mind.” He gestured towards Wesley’s files, “Like this Tro-clan we have to do more research on.” 

“Angel, if we could just get Spi --” Fred started to say. 

“No,” Angel cut her off. 

“ . . . O-or Cordy,” Fred faltered as she looked around guiltily. 

Gunn stepped up, partially shielding Fred from Angel’s brusque tone. “Yo man, listen, we get the threat dealt with and then worry about getting the rest of the crew together. They should be safe enough where they are.” 

“They are on the Hellmouth. How safe is that?” Angel asked wryly. 

Lorne tilted his head, pondering the possibilities, “Let’s see, Spike, who’s a vampire, and Cordy, who was human the last time I saw her, on the Hellmouth with a Vampire Slayer? I don’t see anything wrong with that. Do you?” 

Fred looked from Lorne to Gunn to Wesley and finally at Angel. “If it’s not safe, then why did you send Cordelia and Darla there to recuperate?” 

“Because it’s safer than being here,” Angel replied with a tired sigh. “The Slayer and Spike are both there, with Buffy’s group of friends. I knew what I was doing.” His voice trailed off as if he wasn’t so sure anymore about his decisions. 

“Sometimes I seriously doubt that,” Wesley said to himself. 

Angel turned on Wesley with a glare. “You got something to say, Wes?” 

Wesley cleared his throat as he summed up the courage to speak his mind. “Yes Angel. We are sitting around discussing your relationships rather than tackling the demons we should be fighting. It’s a waste of time.” 

“I never gave any indication for you to discuss my personal life. You came in here and did that on your own,” Angel shot back. 

“That is because we have a situation on our hands, and you are distracted, Angel,” Wesley said defensively. 

“Angel,” Fred said plaintively. 

“Fine,” Angel sighed. “I’ll think about bringing Cordy back here. For now, we need to find out what this Tro-clan thing is before it manifests in our reality.” 

**************************

**_Under a Busy Section of Los Angeles, Night_**

Holtz paced in front of the bank of television sets that Sahjhan had set up for him. He turned towards the sound of a grate sliding open. Sahjhan stepped inside and the grate slid closed again. 

“You’ve kept me here long enough. Where are they?” Holtz demanded. 

“It’s not that simple,” Sahjhan started to say. 

“I’m tired of waiting!” Holtz yelled, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. He reached out to grab the demon, but his hands passed right through the body. He pulled his hand back and looked from his very real hand to the ghost of the demon. Was it a ghost if you could see him clearly but not touch him? 

“Like I said,” Sahjhan said deprecatingly, “It’s not that simple. Do you think I’d go to all this trouble of transporting you two and a half centuries into the future if I could walk up to Angelus and stake him myself? Please! There are rules and timetables and forces a work far greater than either of us. Boy, you vengeful types aren’t real good at playing with others are you?” 

Sahjhan passed his hands along the sides of his head and his face turned into that of a human. When Holtz gave him an odd look, he said, “It’s my street face.” He tossed a coat at the vampire hunter, “Now put that on. I’ve lined up some men to help us.” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Cordelia woke up in a strange bed in a strange room. She blinked away the sleep. It was still dark. The room was chilly, as the fire in the hearth had died down to a small flames licking at the logs. She wondered how anyone could live in drafty, old mansions. She grew up in a mansion, sure, but that had central heating and air conditioning. 

She rubbed the blurriness out of her eyes and looked at the clock that Spike had put by the bed for her. 4:00 a.m. Damn, she figured it’d be later than that. The run-in with Buffy, a late dinner, and Spike letting off steam concerning Angel seemed like yesterday, not just a few hours ago. 

Cordelia crawled out of bed, slipped her robe on and tiptoed out of her room. Though, she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she was going to bother Spike. He probably went out already and was doing whatever it is reined-in vampires do. She went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. 

She had just put it in the microwave and started it when a blinding flash slammed into her. The force of it slammed her into the island next to the stove. She cried out as her lower back hit the edge of the island. She collapsed on the floor and curled in on herself when the next flash of the vision hit her. After a moment, the vision had eased enough that she started crawling towards the other side of the kitchen to the extra long cord attached to the phone on the wall. 

Spike ran into the room from another part of the house when she cried out again as another scene of the vision hit her, impeding her progress towards the phone. Spike dropped to his knees and skidded over to her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up against his chest. She buried her face against his skin, her outcry muffled by his body as another scene of the vision ripped through her. 

“Cordy, shh, come on girl,” Spike said as he held onto her shuddering form. She clutched at him, digging her nails into his skin as she bore through the pain. When the vision finally ended, he heard her sob and felt the tears wet his shirt. 

Spike ran his fingers through her hair, combing it back from her face. “Cordy, is it over?” All he got was a nod from her. “Think we better call Angel and tell him.” 

“No! Don’t!” Cordelia said quickly thinking that he was going to call Angel and tell him about the spasm attack that had hijacked her central nervous system. 

“We have to or he won’t know what to fight,” Spike replied. 

“Oh. Okay,” Cordelia said with a sense of relief. 

“What did you think I meant?” Spike asked with a raised brow. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head against him. 

“Come on, pet. Let’s get you off the floor and on the couch. Then, I’ll call Angel for you to tell him what you saw,” Spike said as he started to help her to her feet. 

“I was making a mug of tea. It’s in the microwave,” Cordelia said as she rubbed her aching forehead. 

“I’ll get it after you’re settled,” Spike acknowledged as he led her over to the couch in front of the TV. 

Once she was comfortable he went to the kitchen to retrieve the mug. He handed her the cup as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Angel’s number. Without waiting for an answer, he handed it to her. 

Cordelia put the phone to her ear just as Angel answered, “Hey Spike, what is it?” 

“Angel?” 

“Cordy? Are you okay?” 

“I had another vision,” she replied tiredly. 

“What’d you see?” Angel asked, concern lacing his words. 

“A vampire cult on 8700 Beverly Boulevard, near the hospital,” Cordelia said. “They’re going to feed on the patients there.” 

“Okay, okay, we’ll take care of it. Can you put Spike on?” 

Cordelia handed the phone to Spike. “He wants to talk to you.” 

Spike’s brows furrowed in confusion as if he didn’t recognize the small device. He took it from her and watched her curl up on the couch in a fetal position, silent tears tracking down her face. 

“Hey pounce, what do you want?” Spike said in greeting. 

“How bad was the vision?” Angel asked gruffly, “The truth, Spike.” 

“Could be worse, pillock, you could be here aggravating the hell out of me,” Spike sneered. 

“It’s bad isn’t it? Is she in a lot of pain?” Angel inquired. He knew part of Spike’s attitude was to cover up his answer because Cordelia was right there next to him. But, the other part was because Spike was still upset with him. 

“Nothing a few pain killers and a cuppa wouldn’t cure. She’ll be fine,” Spike replied. 

“Take care of her, Spike,” Angel said. 

Spike’s eyes narrowed at that command. “What the bloody hell do I look like a multi-tasking slave? ‘Watch after Buffy’, ‘Watch after Cordy’. I can’t be two places at once, damn it. Bloody well pick one, you discontented sod.” 

“Damn it, Spike!” Angel growled in aggravation. 

“Go fuck yourself, Angel!” Spike said angrily and snapped the phone shut. 

“Sounds like that went well,” Cordelia commented dryly. “Good to see you two working out your issues.” 

“Must be feeling better luv, thought you were in too much pain to notice us,” Spike smirked, his mood suddenly changing. 

“Kind of hard not to notice when you’re in the same room yelling into a phone,” Cordelia said and then let out a painful groan as she shifted to a more comfortable position. “Why are you doing this anyway?” 

“Doing what?” Spike asked with a raised brow. 

“Being nice to me,” Cordelia clarified. 

“Look sweetheart, not your fault you are getting these visions. You need help. It’s not your fault that you have come to Sunnydale to get it,” Spike said as he sat down next to her on the couch, “Seems it all evolves round Angel, as usual.” 

“He does care about you, you know? He’s just being a pig-headed brute about it,” Cordelia said softly. 

“Anymore name-calling from either of us and the poor bastard will think we don’t like him,” Spike teased. 

Cordelia scoffed at that. “Sure, Spike. I get that vampires have enhanced senses and all, but I don’t think his hearing stretched all the way to Sunnydale.” 

“It’s a good thing I’ve blocked him out of my mind then, pet,” Spike commented with a quirk at the corner of his lips. 

“Oh that,” Cordelia shrugged. “He should be too busy going after the nasties in my vision. At least he better be for all I have to put up with to have these visions.” 

“I’m sure he’s getting right on that,” Spike nodded. “Being the real taskmaster that he is, Gunn and Wes are fighting them as we speak.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel hung up the phone and looked up to see Fred, Gunn, Wesley and Lorne stare at him with accusing glares. 

“What?” he asked innocently. 

“What did you just tell him?” Fred demanded. 

“I only told him to be sure she was o--” Angel started to say. 

“He’s a vampire, Angel, and your mate,” Fred pointed out angrily. “He’s not a glorified babysitter.” 

“I want her safe,” Angel said defensively. 

“Which one: Cordy, or the Slayer?” Gunn asked. 

“Cordelia!” Angel replied. 

“Then, why is Spike up there with Buffy?” Wesley asked. 

“Because . . .” Angel started to say, then clammed up. “You know what?” He said walking towards the weapons cabinet and opening it to hand out weapons. “Let’s leave my personal life alone for a while and deal with Cordelia’s vision.” 

“Cordy had a vision? Of what?” Wesley asked concerned, Angel’s personal life momentarily forgotten in the face of impending danger. 

“There’s a vampire cult at or near the hospital,” Angel explained as he headed towards the door. “Anyone else coming with me or do you want to stand around and gossip like a bunch of hens.” 

“And on that note, I think I’ll be going back to my club to see how construction is coming along,” Lorne said walking out the door with them as Angel led the way to the car. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Saint Matthews Hospital_**

Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Fred dashed inside the building and rushed down the hallway. People glanced up and saw them rush by as they ran down the corridors until they came to them aternity ward. They skidded to a halt when they saw a group of twenty vampires cooing at the babies on the other side of the glass. 

“Okay, now that’s just weird,” Fred, commented on a sight that she never thought she’d see in a million years. But then, she never thought she’d be sucked through a portal into Pylea either. 

Sensing humans nearby, the group of vampires turned towards the team en masse and growled. 

Fred cringed at the lecherous looks she was given. “Uh-oh, this doesn’t look good, does it?” 

“Gunn, you and I can hold them off as long as we can. Wesley get Fred to the car,” Angel said, instinctively ordering his team around. 

“Excuse me, who put you back in charge of this team?” Gunn asked. 

“I can fight my own battles, Angel. I survived in a hell dimension for five years. I think I can take on a few vampires,” Fred said resolutely. 

Angel turned around to address them. “Look, it would safer for all of --” 

“Would put a lid on that Papa Bear crap and let us help you for God’s sake,” Wesley said. 

“Uh, guys,” Fred said as she watched the group of vampires move closer while the boys were arguing. 

“Look, it’s my team no matter who runs the show. Right now, that’s me, and if I say get the hell out of here for your own good, you do it,” Angel argued. 

“Guys! Look!” Fred yelled, pointing her finger in the direction of the advancing cult. 

Angel and Gunn turned away from their argument to see that the vampire cult had gotten too close for comfort. They backed up slowly taking Fred with them. 

“I think we should . . . run,” Angel suggested as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her along with him. 

They rounded the corner with Wesley and Gunn at their skidding heels. They dodged past a few orderlies shouting at them to get out of the way and a patient on a gurney. They ran down the corridor with the cult in hot pursuit until they reached a dead end in the form of a classroom. 

“What is this?” Angel asked as he glanced around. 

“It’s a teaching hospital. This is a classroom,” Wesley replied. 

“Here they come,” Gunn said as he joined them. 

The foursome dropped into fighting stance and waited for the vampire cult to arrive. 

“Charles, do you have an extra stake I could borrow?” Fred asked quietly. 

Gunn pulled out a stake and handed it to her, “This okay?” 

“Perfect,” she said as she held the stake at the ready. 

“On my count of three,” Angel said, “One, two . . . three!” 

Just then, the doors burst open and the vampire cult rushed into the room. Each member staked a vampire as they ran forward. Then, the fight was on. Angel punched his second vampire and tossed him across the room where he hit the wall and slid to the ground. Fred missed staking her second vampire and ended up running out of the room with the vampire in pursuit. Gunn staked one vampire and sucker-punched another one. Wesley was holding his own in fighting two vampires. A minute later, Fred ran by the windows of the double doors in the opposite direction with the vampire still chasing her. 

Gunn staked two more vampires before he looked around to see Fred missing. “What happened to Fred?” 

“I don’t know,” Angel, yelled in the middle of being slammed on top of a table and punched. He returned the favor and struck back with his fist, knocking his opponent back and sprang off the table. A stake appeared in his hand and the vampire was dust a second later. 

Outside in the hallway, Fred ran passed a fire exit. She skidded to a halt, doubled back and used it. The vampire saw her leave through the door and chased after her. When he pushed the door open to follow her, Fred gripped the stairwell railing for support and kicked the out-swinging door into the vampire’s face, knocking him backwards into the building. Landing on her feet, she clutched her stake in a death grip and ran inside before the door could shut on her. While the vampire was still dazed from being hit with a solid, metal door, Fred staked him. 

Back inside the room, Wesley yelled, “Everybody out!” 

The team started moving towards the door and began to file out, staking vampires along the way. Angel was the last to leave, dusting one last vampire with a broomstick before following the others. They met Fred in the hallway waving dust away from her face. 

“What happened to you?” Gunn asked. 

“Killed one with my survival skills,” Fred replied. 

“We better get out of here before we have to fight anymore,” Wesley suggested as they headed for the normal exit doors. “There’s about a dozen more back there.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles Freeway_**

“I think we lost them,” Gunn announced as he looked out over the back of Angel’s car as it sped down the road. 

“Anybody hurt?” Angel asked in general. 

“Nothing a couple of band-aids and a pint of Cookie Dough-Fudge Mint-Chip can’t fix,” Fred said from the backseat. 

“I’m good,” Wesley announced from the passenger seat. 

“Where _are_ we going?” Fred asked. 

“Somewhere safe,” Angel replied. 

“Where’s safe?” Wesley asked. “The hotel’s definitely out.” 

“How about if we go . . .” Gunn started to suggest. 

“Vegas?” Angel finished. “Sorry, Gunn, too high profile. But, I agree we need to get out of dodge.” 

“Well, actually,” Wesley started to say. 

“I hate when you say that!” Gunn said. 

“It’s just that we still have to figure out what the Tro-clan is and the only way to find that out is the scrolls back at the hotel,” Wesley explained. 

“Fine, a quick stop,” Angel conceded. He turned the convertible into a dark alley and stopped. 

“Why are we stopping here?” Fred asked. 

“It’s only a couple of blocks to the hotel. Fred and I will go the rest of the way on foot,” Angel said. He and Fred got out of the car and Gunn and Wesley took their places. Fred stood next to Angel as he asked, “Where are the scrolls?” 

“In the cabinet back in the office,” Wesley replied. 

“Gunn take Wesley to Lorne’s. We’ll all meet there. But, we need Cordelia too. I don’t want the team scattered like it is,” Angel said. 

“First, she was safer up there and now you want her back here?” Wesley asked incredulously. 

“Maybe we should get Spike too?” Gunn suggested. 

“Spike has enough on his hands dealing with Buffy,” Angel said by way of explanation. 

“Angel, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Wesley asked. 

“No, Wesley. I don’t know what I’m doing,” Angel ranted. “A majority of my time is spent dealing with Wolfram  & Hart while they play with my life. I’m trying to keep my head above water, make amends for every evil deed I committed when I was soulless. And, oh yeah, my _mate_ hates my guts right now and wants nothing to do with me. So no, Wes, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!” 

“Angel, man, calm down,” Gunn said with a placating gesture. 

The dark vampire rubbed his temples, heaving a tired sigh. “Look, it’s been a long night. Just do what I ask. We’ll meet at Lorne’s.” 

Angel walked away. Fred looked between his retreating back and Gunn and Wesley before she followed him to the hotel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel ran along the corridor of a hallway while holding Fred’s hand. He galloped down the stairs and directed Fred to Wesley’s office. “Go get the scrolls. I’m going to get some blood.” They split off and Angel went to the kitchen. He returned with a couple of bags of blood, his mind on future plans. 

“Angelus,” Holtz greeted. 

Angel dropped the bags when he heard a voice he thought he’d never hear again. He looked up and saw Daniel Holtz, the vampire hunter who chased him and Darla through Europe. The same vampire hunter whose family he and Darla slaughtered . . . in the seventeenth century. Angel was at a loss to explain how a seventeenth century hunter could be standing in front of him in his hotel lobby. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Holtz said. 

“Holtz. My God,” Angel said softly, awestruck at the sight before him. 

“You have no God, demon,” Holtz said menacingly. 

“The Tro-clan,” Angel realized. “The prophecy: ‘raised up from darkness to bring darkness’. That’s you. Holtz, whatever brought you here . . .” 

A few of Holtz’s henchmen stood up and caught Angel’s wrists and neck in a metal device similar to a guillotine, holding him fast. 

“You did,” Holtz said. “You and your demon bitch. For two hundred years I slept. For two hundred years. I dreamt of nothing,” He moved closer and put a sword against Angel’s throat, “But this moment.” 

“Which would explain why you look so well-rested,” Angel commented dryly. 

Holtz pulled the sword back, “You haven’t changed.” 

“Actually, I have,” Angel countered. “While you were sleeping a lot changed.” 

“Really?” Holtz asked with an air of interest. He threw a small vial of holy water in Angel’s face. His features shifted to his demon for a split second and then back to his human visage. 

“Somehow things seem the same to me,” Holtz stated. 

“You’re wrong,” Angel choked. 

Holtz put the tip of Angel’s own sword against his neck again. “I _will_ have justice.” 

“No,” Angel said. “I don’t think you will. There is no justice for the things I did to you.” 

“You didn’t do them to me,” Holtz said simply. “And you didn’t do them alone.” He turned away and addressed his other henchmen, “Find the female. If he’s here, Darla can’t be far.” He turned back to the vampire, “Or are you going to tell me _that’s_ changed too?” 

Angel was held motionless by the metal guillotine while Holtz admired his sword. That didn’t stop him from breaking the news to Holtz. “Darla’s dead. She’s been gone for a year now. You’re still human. How’d you manage that?” 

Holtz put the sword back into the weapons cabinet. “Darla, how did she die?” 

“An evil law firm brought her back as a dying human,” Angel replied as best he could under the constrictive circumstances. 

“Hmm, so the question becomes: now that I have you, what’s the best way to kill you?” Holtz mused. 

“Only dark magic’s could have brought you this far,” Angel said. 

“You know, she was always the tricky one, not you. Darla was the unpredictable one,” Holtz told him as if he were letting Angel in on a little secret. 

“Was it a demon or something else?” Angel asked. “Did something come to you or did you seek it out? What did you have to give up for this second chance?” 

“Give up?” Holtz turned to face the vampire. “I had nothing _to_ give up. _You_ saw to that.” 

“It’s true that we took a lot from you,” Angel conceded, “But we didn’t get everything, we couldn’t take your soul.” 

Holtz raised a brow in surprise. “What do you know of a soul?” 

“I know yours will be destroyed if you allow yourself to be used in the service of evil,” Angel replied. “You’re a good man, Holtz. A righteous man, and you’re being used for some purpose other than justice.” 

“Could it be that you really have changed? I don’t remember you ever pleading so cravenly before,” Holtz said. 

“And I remember _you_ used to work with men. Grappler demons, I mean really?” Angel taunted. 

Holtz hit Angel across the face with a backhanded slap. “Are you still concerned about my soul, Angelus, my vampire priest?” 

The door opened and a Grappler demon walked in. Holtz excused himself and walked over to the demon. Upon hearing his report, Holtz turned to look at Angelus. “You found someone? Bring her here.” 

Angel watched the door with a sense of apprehension. He hadn’t seen Fred since she went to retrieve Wesley’s notes on the Tro-clan. He hoped she had sense enough to hide or get out and go to Lorne’s for protection. He let out a breath of relief when he saw that it was Lilah. 

“Lilah?” Angel said, “Now’s not a good time, I can only handle a pound of my flesh being removed by one person at a time.” 

“This isn’t her,” Holtz sounded disgusted. He walked over and threw holy water in Lilah’s face. “She’s not even a vampire.” 

“No, I’m an attorney,” Lilah said, wiping her face dry. 

“Why are you here, Lilah?” Angel asked. 

She sized him up in the vise he was in and addressed Holtz, “Look, if I’d known you were torturing him, I wouldn’t have interrupted. Please continue. I’ll wait until you’re finished.” 

“When I’m finished, he’ll be dead,” Holtz said resolutely. 

“Really?” Lilah asked intrigued. 

“You say you’re an attorney,” Holtz said. “You deal in man’s laws, I deal in God’s.” 

“Ah, right,” Lilah nodded, “A good guy.” 

“Do you know what he is?” Holtz asked, gesturing towards Angel. 

Angel wasn’t too happy to see his two mortal enemies discussing anything concerning him. What was that old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? 

“Yeah, I know,” Lilah said and then recited, “Vampire, cursed by Gypsies who restored his soul, destined to atone for evil, wacky sidekicks, yada, yada. I’d have him killed myself, except the people I work for have this _policy_.” 

“Hm,” Holtz acknowledged. He turned back to Angel, “What does she mean ‘cursed by Gypsies’?” 

“Long story, Holtz,” Angel replied. “I doubt it would interest you much.” 

“How about I go to my car for about twenty seconds?” Lilah offered. “That should give you enough time in here. I’ve got an early staff meeting in the morning.” 

While his mortal enemies were discussing his fate, Angel was searching for an escape route. 

“I can’t allow you to leave,” Holtz said stopping her before she got three paces. 

“What do you mean? Of course you can,” Lilah said with a false smile. 

“No. You said you work for the law.” 

“No, I didn’t. I said I’m a lawyer,” Lilah clarified. “I don’t care about the law.” 

Just then, a blinding red light illuminated the room. Angel closed his eyes to it. The flare bounced around the room causing everyone able to duck to get out of its way before it whizzed passed Angel and blew a hole in the elevator. The explosion wasn’t big, but it was enough to throw Angel back and toss Holtz to the ground. 

Angel spared a glance at the ruined elevator and then back to Fred who was standing in the doorway of the office with the flare gun. 

“Nice shot,” he praised before grabbing her hand and running out of the hotel with her and the scrolls. 

Holtz picked himself up and looked at the man-shaped hole in the elevator doors. He rushed over to look down the empty shaft. “Search the grounds!” he ordered his henchmen. Addressing Lilah, he said, “If you get in my way again, I’ll kill you. No one will get him but me.” 

Lilah opened her mouth to object, but then shrugged, “Yeah, okay, whatever,” and walked out the door. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, the Magic Box_**

After ensuring that Cordelia would be fine by herself long enough to check on Buffy, Spike left her and searched the graveyards and her house before ending up at the Magic Box. When he got there, he noticed a demon with a wooden mask on his head skulking around the outside of the shop and the strains of a song inside. 

Inside, Tara and Giles stood side-by-side as their song ended. Suddenly, Spike burst into the magic shop pulling the minion behind him. Everyone turned to gape at him. 

“Have a look at what I found skulking around outside,” Spike said. 

“Is-is this the demon guy?” Tara asked. 

Willow squealed Tara’s name, but the gentle witch ignored her. Willow looked crestfallen. Xander and Anya emerged from the back room. Spike didn’t know what was going on to create strife among the Scoobies these days, but it seemed serious. He shrugged inwardly at the thought. He’d been preoccupied with his own tumultuous relationship with Angel to worry about Buffy’s gang of do-gooders. 

“He works for the head demon,” Spike clarified. His eyes narrowed on the minion, “And, he has a nice little story for the Slayer, don’t you? Come on, then.” He shoved the minion forward, “Start singing like a canary.” 

The musical spell that settled over the town started a dramatic swelled on a tune as if to introduce a big number, but the minion simply spoke in a normal voice, “My master has the Slayer’s sister hostage at the Bronze because she summoned him and at midnight he’s going to take her to the underworld to be his queen.” 

“What does he want?” Giles asked. 

The minion pointed at Buffy, “Her.” 

“If that’s all you’ve got to say then,” Spike scoffed. He tried to grab the minion but he broke free and ran off. Spike watched him with a surprised expression. “He’s strong. Someday he’ll be a real boy.” 

“So, Dawn’s in trouble,” Buffy said casually, “It must be Tuesday.” 

“I-I just left her for a few minutes,” Tara said in her defense. 

“It’s not your fault,” Buffy assured her, then turned to Giles, “So what’s the plan?” 

“Plan, scheme, let’s mount up,” Xander said in a motivational tone. 

“No,” Giles said simply. 

Anya raised her hand, “Uh, Dawn may have had the wrong idea in summoning this creature, but . . . I’ve seen some of these underworld child bride deals and they never end well. Well, maybe once.” 

“We’re not just going to stay here,” Willow said. 

“Yes we are,” Giles, stated as he looked at the Slayer intently, “Buffy’s going alone.” 

Spike gave a derisively laugh, “Gah! Don’t be a stupid git. There is no --” 

“If I want your opinion, Spike, I’ll --,” Giles started to say then paused to think about it. “I’ll never want your opinion.” 

“Hey! The only reason I’m even here is Buffy, thanks to that guilt-ridden Sire of mine. If you lot aren’t going to help then it falls to me,” Spike said angrily. 

“A little confusion spell could --,” Willow started to offer. 

“No!” Tara said sharply. Willow looked at her surprised. Tara lowered her voice and said evenly, “I don’t think it will help.” 

Spike heaved a sigh and pulled Buffy aside. “Look, forget them, Slayer. I’ll help you.” 

“I don’t want your help. You don’t even want to be here. You’re doing it because Angel forced it on you. Besides, don’t you have Cordy to see to?” Buffy said. 

Upon hearing the familiar name, Xander interjected, “Cordelia’s here, with Spike?! What is it with women? First, that last girl was with him in the Bronze defending the bleached wonder as a champion and now Cordy?” 

“Maybe it’s my charm?” Spike smirked. 

“More like some kind of spell like the one that’s over this town,” Xander said derisively. “What is it with women and the undead? Why are you so attracted to dead flesh? Vampires kill humans, yet every time I turn around one of my friends or my ex-girlfriend or some random girl is humping some vamp’s leg? Why is that?” 

“Xander!” the girls yelled in unison. 

He looked around innocently, “What?” 

Spike had heard enough of the boy’s mouth for one night. He could make disparaging remarks about vampires all he wanted. Insulting Fred and Cordelia was another thing entirely. Faster than the human eye could follow, the blonde vampire had Xander out of his chair and pinned to the nearest wall by a hand around his neck. 

“Get your hands off me, you bloodsucking parasite,” Xander choked. 

“I knew one of these days your mouth would get you into trouble,” Anya commented. 

“Anya!” Xander said in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered what side his former demon girlfriend was on. 

“Let him go, Spike,” Willow cried as she ran over and tried to dislodge the vampire’s grip. 

“Say what you want about me or Angel, Xander,” Spike said in a menacing voice. “But mark my words: the next insult out of your soddin’ mouth directed at Cordelia or Fred will be the end of you. Fred’s the sweetest, most gentle person I’ve known in a long while. As for Cordy, she’s dealt with enough shit this year without an affront on her character from someone who doesn’t know her anymore.” 

Spike let go of Xander and the boy dropped in a heap on the floor massaging his throat. Buffy grabbed the vampire’s arm and swung him around, punching him in the nose. 

“Ouch!” Spike yelled as he covered his face. “What was that for?” 

“You had Xander by the throat!” Buffy replied. 

“He was maligning people I just happen to care about, bint,” Spike said in a defensive nasal tone. He pulled his hand away and glared down at the Slayer angrily, “Fine. I hope you dance ’til you burn, both you and your sister.” 

He stormed to the door and had it open before Buffy called out, “But then, what would Angel say if I did die because you weren’t there to help?” 

“Angel can go to hell and take you with him for all I care,” Spike replied angrily as he slammed the door behind him. 

Buffy looked at Giles’ disapproving expression. “What?” 

“Must you goad him like that?” he asked. 

“Don’t worry about him, Giles. We’ll be there to back the Buffster up,” Xander said as he picked himself up off the floor. At Giles’ expression, Xander looked around at the others, “Won’t we?” 

“You’re really not coming?” Buffy asked. 

“It’s up to you, Buffy,” Giles replied as he put a hand on her shoulder. 

“What do you expect me to do?” Buffy asked tearfully. 

“Your best,” Giles said simply. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike slammed the door when he entered the house and went straight for the booze. He poured himself a shot but drank from the bottle instead. Hearing the whisper of footsteps, he turned to see Cordelia dressed in a tank top and loose-fitting sweat pants. 

“Hello luv, looking gorgeous as always,” Spike greeted as he took another swig. 

“Bad night?” Cordelia asked. 

In response, Spike started in on a rant, “What’s it take to make everyone happy? Apparently, couldn’t make Angel happy, since he sent me away to this hell. Tried to help Buffy, she doesn’t want my soddin’ help. She’d rather burn than have it. Why is it that I’m not good enough, Cordy? Is it ’cause I don’t have a fractured, tortured soul that forces me to brood over life? Does being soulless make me expendable to them?” 

“Coming from someone who didn’t like you very much in the beginning of this whole thing between you and Angel, I think you’re a great asset to the right people. Though, I don’t think that it’s Buffy and the Scoobies. You belong where you’re needed and that’s in L.A. with us, with Angel. He may be too stubborn in his own sense of obligation to see it, but he needs you there more than Buffy does here.” 

“He sent me away,” Spike said. 

“For all the directions the Powers That Be give him with my skull-crushing visions, he’s a very misguided soul,” Cordelia said with a small smile. 

Spike put the bottle down on the bar and went over to her, pulling her into a hug. She returned the hug until it became too much for her oxygen supply. 

“Uh, Spike, I know you’re probably appreciative and everything, but I’m still human here, need to breathe!” Cordelia gasped. 

“Sorry,” Spike whispered as he loosened his hold. “This doesn’t mean that I’ve forgiven him and will be crawling back to him.” 

Cordelia pulled away and looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, “Are you crazy? Who said anything about _you_ crawling? Angel should grovel for the mess he made.” 

Spike thought it was a great idea, but a moment later he growled in agitation, “I better go save her from herself and then kill her.” 

“What? Why?” Cordelia asked bewildered. 

“Because if I don’t, she’ll die and with Faith in prison, there’s no one to protect this soddin’ town. Though, the idea of it burning down along with her sounds very appealing right now,” Spike replied. 

“So, let it burn and we’ll go back to L.A. You can stay with me until Angel gets his over-sized head out of his ass,” Cordelia offered. 

Spike raised his scarred brow at that, “Offering to share your bed with me, luv?” 

“If that’s what it takes to get Angel to see things clearly . . .” Cordelia started to say and then noticed the leer Spike gave her, “Oh no you don’t, you’re staying on the couch!” 

“As appealing as your overstuffed couch sounds, I may have to decline on the basis that I’ve slept on it for four months before and it’s just not as comfortable as a bed,” Spike smirked. 

“Hey, mister, I slept on that couch when I first moved to L.A.,” Cordelia pointed out as she jabbed in the chest with her manicured fingernail. 

“And was it comfortable?” Spike asked, raising a brow, which earned him a light punch in the gut. 

“Oaf!” Spike rubbed his stomach where she hit him, “What is with you women hitting me? What did I ever do to you?” 

“Suck it up, I didn’t hit you that hard,” Cordelia scoffed and then walked away muttering, “Big baby!” 

“Hey, I have delicate skin!” Spike yelled after her. 

“Delicate skin my a--” 

“Cordelia Chase, cursing is never becoming of a lady,” Spike teased. 

“I never claimed to be a lady. I’m a modern woman,” Cordelia snapped back. “And you better go save little Miss Headstrong before she finds herself in _real_ danger.” 

“Yeah, ’cause that is what Angel sent me here for, wasn’t it, and we have to do what Angel wants,” Spike said as he headed for the door. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, the Bronze_**

Spike walked in on Buffy singing some song about her life being hard since she’d been brought back. The demon on stage shook his head. Buffy gave him a desperate look, turned and flipped off the stage onto the floor. She danced faster and faster with Dawn watching in dismay. Buffy spun around wildly until smoke began to curl around her. Suddenly, Spike grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her. Buffy gave him a desperately unhappy look. 

"Ok Buffy, you were in heaven, and your friends brought you back,” Spike sighed in irritation. They brought you back because they thought you were being tortured in a hell dimension by Glory. They were wrong. “We know that bringing people back to life is dark magic. They may have sold their own souls to bring you back. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and get on with life. You have Dawn depending on you, and friends to support you. You are a lot better off than a lot of people.” 

“The hardest thing in this world . . . is to live in it,” Dawn said behind her. 

Buffy looked at Dawn and then back at Spike. 

“Now that’s a show stopping number,” the demon commented. 

“Get out of here,” Willow said point-blank. 

“Well, I think it’s time for me and the missus to leave,” the demon said as he grabbed Dawn’s wrist. 

“That’s never going to happen,” Giles stated. 

The demon chuckled, “I don’t make the rules. She summoned me.” 

“I so did not,” Dawn, countered, turning to her friends, “He keeps saying that.” 

“You have my talisman on, sweet thing,” the demon reminded her as he reached out to touch the necklace around Dawn’s neck. She cringed in fear and cowered away from him. 

“Oh, but no, I-I, um, uh, this . . . at the Magic Box, on the floor,” Dawn stumbled around an explanation. “I was cleaning and forgot but . . . I didn’t summon anything.” 

“Well now, that’s a twist,” the demon mused. 

“If it was at the shop, then one of us probably . . .” Giles trailed off as everyone looked at each other. Slowly Xander raised his hand. 

“Xander!” Anya said shocked. 

Xander’s shoulders slumped guiltily and he shuffled his feet, “Well, I didn’t know what was going to happen! I just thought there were going to be dances and songs.” He took Anya’s hand in his, “I just wanted to make sure we’d . . . we’d work out. You know, get a happy ending.” 

The demon chuckled, “I think everything worked out just fine.” 

Xander swallowed nervously and asked, “Does this mean I have to . . . be your queen?” 

The demon appeared to consider the idea for so long that Anya was getting anxious and Xander became apprehensive. “It’s temping, but I think we’ll waive that clause just this once.” Xander let out a sigh of intense relief. The demon smiled evilly. “Big smiles everyone! You beat the bad guy!” He did a quick spin and disappeared. 

Everyone stood around with a shell-shocked expression until Dawn broke into another song. Spike watched them sing a couple of lines and then walked out the door shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. 

Outside, Spike walked down the street headed back to the mansion when Buffy ran out after him. He stopped and tilted his head back to look at the sky as he turned around. He let out a heavy sigh and looked at her. “What do you want now, Slayer? Go back in and finish your big group sing-a-long.” 

“I don’t want to,” Buffy pouted. 

Spike sighed again, “The day you and Angel suss out what you do want feel free to give me a ring. Until then, just leave me be.” 

Without warning, Buffy rushed up to Spike, grabbed the lapels of his duster and kissed him. He didn’t respond immediately as he was too shocked by her boldness. Then, his arms went around her and crushed her against him as he deepened the kiss. 

The way his mind possessed what was happening, Spike felt he was owed this. Angel sent him away against his will to look after the chit; the least he could get was compensation for having his life turned upside-down. Besides that, Spike wanted to know what the bloody hell it was that drew his Sire to her. She seemed to hold her own in the kissing department. At least Angel taught her that. Spike wondered what else his Sire taught her. 

All of a sudden, the real world came crashing in. 

Spike broke the kiss and stared at her. His Sire may have taught her how to kiss, but Buffy was not like his Sire. Plans started to form in the back of his mind, revenge plots to get back at Angel for what he did to him. There was no love lost between him and Buffy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use her to teach Angel a lesson about abandoning your mate. 

"Umm,” Spike hummed as he licked his lips in a predatory manner. “Nice slayer, but what was that all about? Where did that come from? Still part of the ‘I feel sorry for myself’ that you have going on? If you want to take it further, you know where to find me.” 

With that, Spike turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Buffy to stare after him with a confused look on her face. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike’s brows furrowed when he saw Gunn’s truck in his driveway. Why would anyone in L.A. opt to come to Sunnydale voluntarily? He made his way inside the house and found Gunn sitting on couch with Cordelia, her legs curled up under her as she leaned on the back of the couch. 

“Angel’s being a stubborn ass. It’s like he’s lost without Spike and doesn’t want to admit it,” Gunn was saying. “And now with this vampire hunter Holtz back.” 

That stopped Spike in his tracks behind the couch, “Holtz is back? How did that happen?” 

Gunn and Cordelia turned to see Spike’s gaping expression. “Hey Blondie,” Gunn said. “Yeah, you know this Holtz guy?” 

“Only from Angelus mentioning him,” Spike replied. 

“Well, somehow he was brought back through time . . . or is it forward?” Gunn shrugged, “Anyway, that’s the new Big Bad down there.” 

“So, did you come here to get me to help you?” Spike asked hopefully. 

“Uh, no,” Gunn said sadly. “Angel wanted Cordelia back. I wanted to get you back there, but as I said Angel’s being a stubborn ass.” 

“So let me get this straight: the whole gang, except Angel, wants me back, but he still refuses,” Spike nodded as he thought about it, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone, “Oh right, ’cause Spike doesn’t matter. He has to look out for the Slayer and baby-sit anyone who needs it when Angel demands.” Spike tossed his hands in the air. “I’m not a mate, I’m a bloody nursemaid. Guess I should count myself lucky that he doesn’t think I’m a wet nurse as well!” 

Gunn and Cordelia looked at each other and then back at the ranting vampire. Spike slashed his hand through the air, “Well no more! This is it. Cordy, get your stuff . . . I’m going to pack a bag and going down with you. Give that insufferable Sire of mine a piece of my mind. I’m sick of this. Fuck Angel and what he wants! I’m done following his rules. He’s driving me around the bloody bend! Either he wants me or he doesn’t.” 

Gunn and Cordelia watched Spike pace the floor as he ranted and then Cordelia followed him down the hall to go to her own room and pack her stuff leaving Gunn looking a little bewildered.


	16. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 41: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 8)_

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

“We could have been back to L.A. by now,” Spike complained as he watched the scenery slowly go by. “If I was driving we’d be there and back already.” 

“I’m driving the speed limit. We’ll get there,” Gunn said as he drove with one hand and rested his head on the other that was perched on the window. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes. Her two companions had been sniping at each other ever since they passed the ‘Now Leaving Sunnydale’ sign. The bed of Gunn’s truck was loaded down with Gunn’s hunting gear, Spike’s hunting gear, a couple of Spike’s luggage bags, and Cordelia’s entourage of bags that she said carried necessities. 

“Who taught you to drive anyway?” Spike snapped. 

Cordelia jerked back, almost knocking her head on the back window when Gunn’s hand shot out, shaking a finger at Spike. 

“One more word out of you about my driving and you’ll meet a sunrise dusty ending when you’re hitchhikin’ to L.A.,” Gunn warned. 

Spike scoffed at the offensive hand and stared out the passenger window. 

“Would you guys shut up? Anymore of this and _I’ll_ get out and hitchhike,” Cordelia said. 

“If you get out then you’ll be lugging the crap in the back along with you!” Spike commented. Cordelia punched him in the arm. “Hey!” 

“Those are Versace! I’m not dragging them anywhere!” Cordelia screeched so loud that Spike and Gunn both cringed at the shrill noise. 

“Let me guess, you were a cheerleader in high school?” Gunn surmised. 

“And you thought she wouldn’t be? With those legs --- I mean lungs,” Spike said which earned him another slap on the arm. “You hit me one more time woman and I’ll throw you in the back and bring the luggage up here.” 

“You wouldn’t dare!” Cordelia said outraged. 

“Vampire, pet . . . known for being evil,” Spike shrugged. He sat forward and glared at Gunn. “Can’t you go any faster in this junk heap of a truck?” 

“Goddamn it, Spike, why didn’t you take your car,” Gunn ranted. “And don’t go dissin’ my girl. She’s gotten me through a lot of _vampire_ hunts!” 

“We were all going to the same place!” Spike said. “Had I known we’d be taking a jalopy that only went two miles an hour and get me there sometime next week, I would have taken my car!” 

“Oh, that’s it! You’re dead!” Gunn yelled as he slammed on the brakes, causing the wheels to squeal in protest. He jerked the door open and got out, went around to the back of his truck and grabbed a stake. 

Spike got out and went to the other side to confront the vampire hunter. “What the bloody hell are you doing? Get back in the truck!” 

“Not before you’re a pile of dust!” Gunn threatened as he brandished a stake. 

“Guys, wait! Don’t kill each other,” Cordelia said anxiously as she climbed out of the truck. “Gunn, you can’t dust him! Angel wouldn’t forgive you!” 

“Angel can --” Spike started to say. 

“Angel doesn’t even want him down there. Spike’s making a wasted trip,” Gunn said without thinking. 

Cordelia’s eyes widened and they both slowly turned to look at Spike’s crestfallen expression. 

“Aw, man, I didn’t mean for that to come out like it did,” Gunn apologized. 

Spike sniffed and squared his shoulders. “No, you’re right. It probably wouldn’t bother Angel that I made the choice to come down here and save whatever relationship we have. He hasn’t been exactly caring about what I want. He sent me off to do something he doesn’t have the bollocks to do himself. All Angel knows how to do is make demands of the people around him. All he cares about is that fuckin’ slayer up in Sunnyhell. Then, he dropped Cordy off. Does he stop by to see me? Does he ask how I am? **_No_**! He leaves with **_nothing_**!” Spike paced the length of the truck and then stepped up to Gunn with his arms outstretched. “He mated with me and doesn’t want me near him. So, do it Gunn.” 

Cordelia threw herself between Spike and the stake. “Don’t listen to him Gunn! Once we get him down there and him and Angel in the same room. They’ll fight it out, make up and everything will be like it was before.” She looked between them, “Right?” 

“’S not going to work like that, princess,” Spike said as he took her by the shoulders and moved her out of the way, “The next time I see Angel I’ll impale him on something sharp and pointy; ’s better this way.” 

Gunn twirled the stake around and scoffed, “God Spike, you and Angel are such drama queens. Get in the truck.” 

While Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief, Spike smirked, “Maybe I should drive. I can get us there faster.” 

“The hell you will! You’re not driving my truck!” 

“Selfish bastard!” Spike sneered. 

“Spoiled brat!” Gunn shot back. 

“Vampire hunter hack!” 

“Pansy ass, Billy Idol wannabe!” 

“Billy Idol stole his look from me!” Spike said indignantly. 

“Would you guys get in the truck? I don’t want to be stuck on the Pacific Coast Highway all night,” Cordelia yelled over her shoulder and she got in the vehicle. 

**************************

Fifteen minutes later, Gunn had developed a lead foot. 

“Are you sure you can’t go any faster?” 

“I have it pushed down to the floor, man!” Gunn protested. 

“I’ve been on horses that can trot faster than this!” Spike said. 

“Well, we ain’t in the nineteenth century,” Gunn snapped. 

“Bloody hell, if you let me drive!” Spike said as he reached over and grabbed the wheel. 

“Hey!” Gunn yelled as the truck swerved into oncoming traffic. He jerked the wheel back to get in the right lane. “You try that again and you can walk your undead ass to the Hyperion!” 

“You’re all swagger you know that? Gave you an opportunity to stake me a few miles back . . . You didn’t take it,” Spike scoffed. 

“That’s it!” Gunn tried to drive _and_ leap over Cordelia to get to Spike, causing the truck to swerve again. Then there was a halting siren sound of a patrol car behind him. Gunn sat down and looked in the rearview mirror to see the flashing lights. He pulled over and cut the engine. 

“Now you gone and done it,” Spike accused. 

“Me?! This is your fault, you blood-sucking --” Gunn started to say when the uniformed officer tapped his flashlight on the driver’s doorframe. 

“License and registration, sir,” the officer said. 

“Just a sec,” Gunn said as he pulled his wallet out to get his driver’s license, mumbling, “At least I have a valid license unlike some of us.” 

The officer took the proffered laminated card. “Registration, sir?” 

Gunn glared at Spike as he opened the glove compartment and searched for the pink paper. 

“What was that for? It’s not like we’re in my vehicle. _Had we been_ in my car, I would have never gotten pulled over for swerving into three lanes of traffic while still driving in the carpool lane.” 

“Shut up, Spike,” Cordelia hissed. 

“Do you realize that you were driving in the wrong lane and swerving into oncoming traffic?” the officer asked. 

“Yes and no,” Gunn answered as politely as he could manage. 

“Which is it?” 

“Yes, I know I was swerving but I didn’t realize that I was in the wrong lane,” Gunn clarified. 

“Uh huh,” the officer acknowledged as he wrote the ticket, “I’m making this out for reckless driving and improper lane usage.” He dotted his I’s and crossed his T’s before handing it to Gunn. “Drive more safely now. See you in court.” 

“Yeah thanks,” Gunn said as the officer walked back to his car. He tossed the ticket at Spike, “You are so gonna pay for that.” 

“I didn’t cause that,” Spike said with a cringe as he tossed the paper back. “For me to cause that I would have to be driving.” 

“Oughta call him back and give you ticket for being a pain in my ass,” Gunn mumbled as he started the truck. He gave a false smile and wave as the highway patrol drove by. 

Gunn was not-so-merrily driving down the highway as fast as was legally allowed when, out of nowhere, the tire blew out. 

“I’ll be . . . bloody, soddin’, bastard, son of a bitchin’, piece of tin crap,” Spike yelled as he beat on the dashboard. 

“Spike! Do you think you used enough expletives?” Cordelia asked. 

“He doesn’t mean anything by it, baby,” Gunn cooed to his truck as he caressed the steering wheel. 

“I think the fates are telling you to get a new bloody truck!” Spike seethed. 

“Calm down, it’s just a flat tire. Easy to fix,” Gunn said as he pulled over and got out. 

He lugged the spare tire out of the truck bed and went around to the back passenger wheel. When help didn’t seem to be forthcoming, Gunn straightened up. 

“Hey! I’m not providing a catering service. Someone get out here and help me.” 

Spike grudgingly got out and went to the back wheel. He grabbed the rim of the truck and slowly lifted up until the wheel was off the ground enough for Gunn to change it. 

“Don’t need a jack when you got vampire strength, huh?” Gunn quipped as he replaced the lug nuts. 

When the tire was secure, Spike let go and the truck bounced on the axles. He ran around the front and got in the driver’s side with Gunn yelling after him about the truck not having great suspension. 

“Hey, man, what are you doing?! I didn’t say you could drive,” Gunn said through the passenger window. 

“Sorry, can’t stay . . . got to get to L.A. before the sun rises and toasts my delicate skin,” Spike said as he started the truck and burned rubber screeching away, leaving Gunn on the side of the road screaming after him. 

Cordelia looked through the back window at Gunn yelling and waving his hands, but he was rapidly becoming a dot on the horizon and then nothing. She looked aghast at Spike. 

“You know, being a vampire and stealing a vampire hunter’s truck isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had. You have to go back and get him, Spike,” Cordelia said anxiously. 

“Can’t do that, luv. Vampire on a mission here,” Spike said as he steadily sped up. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Spike screeched to a halt in front of the Hyperion, jumped out and walked purposefully through the gates, not waiting for Cordelia to catch up. When he threw the door open and walked in bellowing Angel’s name, he was brought up short by the still silence. The lobby that was now clean of Wolfram  & Hart goons was empty. 

Spike went into the manager’s office and started going through the papers on the desk. Cordelia followed him and pretended to do the same thing with her work space. She didn’t know what she was searching for . . . Or for that matter, Spike. When it seemed that Spike wasn’t paying attention, she went to the inner office and leaned against the doorjamb. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked. 

Spike tossed paperwork around the desk when they didn’t give him any answers. “A clue as to where they went. What’s it bloody well look like?” 

“There’s no need to get snippy with me,” Cordelia said. 

Spike glanced up from the paperwork in his hand. “Sorry, luv.” 

A little while later, they were disturbed by the front door banging open. They both looked out the manager’s office window to see Gunn stalking into the lobby. 

“How did you get back so quickly?” Cordelia asked as she joined him. 

“Luckily, we were near a pay phone when the tire blew. I called a cab,” Gunn said. “Do you know that I had to listen to the dispatcher laugh at me when I told her where he had to pick me up?” 

“Buck up, Charlie boy,” Spike said as he walked out of the office. 

“You owe me, fang-boy: thirty-five dollars for the ticket and thirty for the cab fare. And you best not have damaged my truck racing it back here.” 

“That ticket was your fault and _you_ ended up taking a cab because you were a soddin’ selfish prick who wouldn’t let me drive,” Spike argued. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes as their earlier argument picked up where it left off in the truck on the 405. “Would you two grow up?” 

“He started it!” Gunn gestured towards the vampire. 

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, you’re here in one piece,” Spike sneered. 

“Cause your undead ass got me a ticket and you stole my truck!” 

“So, it’s my fault that you drove erratically in the wrong lane?” a scarred brow rose questioningly. “By the way, I find ‘stole’ crass. I _borrowed_ the truck to get back here.” Spike shrugged. “Besides, I have a get-out-of-jail-free card. I’m evil.” 

“In that case, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, instead give me my money,” Gunn said holding out his hand. 

“What’s going on here? I thought I told you to go to Lorne’s,” a deep voice said from the entrance. 

Spike and Gunn never looked at Angel, instead choosing to glare at each other. Cordelia ran around Spike to address the other vampire, her pseudo-Prada shoes click-clacking on the polished lobby floor. They could be real Pradas if Angel wasn’t such a cheapskate. 

“Angel, tell them to act like adults. They’ve been like this since we left Sunnydale,” she whined. 

“Huh?” Angel acknowledged. He told Gunn to bring Cordelia back, but why had Spike come? Wasn’t Spike still upset with him for making him stay with Buffy? 

Gunn turned on his heel, stormed up the entrance steps and shoved the speeding ticket and the cab fare receipt towards Angel. “I’d like to have these paid. Your boy is a nuisance and I never want to be in the car with him again,” he said, “Ever.” 

“Uh-huh,” Angel said as he took the slips of paper in a loose grip, his dark eyes never leaving Spike’s stiff body. He willed the other vampire to look at him. He’d tried to talk to the other vampire so many times, but the link between them had been blocked since that regrettable event in Spike’s shower. 

_Spike?_

The name gently brushed the younger vampire’s mind. Angel sighed in relief when he didn’t feel the barrier that Spike had built up since they parted ways. 

_Please look at me._

Spike turned and blue eyes met dark brown. They were both full emotion. Blue eyes filled with hurt. Brown eyes full of regret. Then the blue eyes darkened in anger and the next thing Angel knew, Spike had knocked him on his ass with a solid punch to the jaw. 

“ ** _That_** was for the shower, you manipulative bastard,” Spike hissed. 

“Spike!” Cordelia cried as she rushed forward and skidded to a halt beside him. “You were supposed to talk out your differences.” 

“Best get out of the way girl. Looks like they’re going to duke it out,” Gunn said. 

The vampire hunter pulled her out of the way just as Spike rushed forward at the same time Angel had got to his feet, Gunn’s ticket and receipt momentarily forgotten on the floor. The dark vampire wasn’t on his feet long before Spike barreled into his stomach with his shoulder and shoved him out the entrance doors. They flew over the terrace and landed with heavy grunts on the courtyard pavement. Gunn and Cordelia rushed out behind them to watch the fight. 

“Watch out for your girl, fine. Even though she’s had more boys between her legs in the last two years than you’ve had sex in the last decade.” Spike punched Angel in the face. “Take care of my human grandsire while she’s dyin’. That was low, but I took it, pillock.” That was accompanied by another punch to the midsection. “Tell me that I have no choice but to go back to a hell I never wanted to revisit because of your bloody guilty conscience over Buffy being back?” Spike grabbed Angel by the shirt collar and yanked him up. Tears of pent up anger rose to the surface as he yelled, “I’ve hated you for a lot of things, _Angelus_ , I thought that was the worst you could do. But then, you invaded my mind and forced me to do what **_you_** wanted. Well, guess what, _lover_? I’m back from the hell you sent me to, to tell you to go there and do the job yourself.” 

Angel had taken the impact of the fall easily enough. He took the brunt of Spike’s fists like he felt he should. He deserved his boy’s anger, rage and pummeling. Maybe if Spike got it out of his system . . . 

Spike watched in a surreal state as Angel’s head snapped with every punch to the face. “Come on, brooding hero, fight back! Don’t you dare make yourself out to be a martyr! You don’t get to be the sacrificial lamb in this, bastard. You fucked with me so much and I let you do it. If anyone’s the martyr it should be me!” he growled as his fists repeatedly met flesh and clothing. 

Angel grabbed Spike around the waist as he rolled to his feet and slammed Spike back against the stone wall of the terrace stairs. He felt the guilt weigh heavier in his soul as the younger vampire grunted from the impact. Guilt for Spike not being here to protect Fred when she was left alone with Wesley and Gunn; because Cordelia had to go to Sunnydale for help, and Fred, too, when her parents’ visit frightened her. He didn’t deserve to feel anything but Spike’s anger for sending him away. 

Spike cracked his forehead against Angel’s forcing the larger vampire to release him and stumble back. Then, he took a wild swing and punched Angel in the jaw. He grabbed Angel around the neck in a headlock and brought his knee up into his Sire’s chest. The only time Angel hit back was to block the more critical blows. He caught Spike’s knee and tripped the younger vampire, going down with Spike when he didn’t let go. 

“We’re supposed to be mated you emotionally-challenged dick,” Spike said as he tried to scramble out from under Angel’s weight. Finally succeeding, he kicked against the leg of a wooden bench until it splintered and broke off. 

Grabbing the makeshift stake, he rolled back towards Angel, straddling his Sire and raised his arm to stake him. The air was thick with anticipation. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat, just knowing Spike would follow through. Angel and Spike stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, daring the other to make a move. 

“Go on do it!” Angel said hoarsely. When Spike didn’t react, he grabbed his mate’s wrist and pulled the stake closer until it nestled against his chest directly above his heart. “All you have to do is lean in and it’ll go through me like air. I’ll be gone. You won’t have to deal with it anymore. Won’t have to deal with my guilt, my burdens. I’ll be dust and you can walk away, no strings, no obligations. It’s what you want.” 

Spike’s eyes reflected the pain he felt of what Angel’s words implied until that last bit sank in. Then, he sneered, “What I want? Since when the soddin’ fuck have you cared about what I want? You don’t deserve to play the victim in this. You sent me away, not the other way around.” He got to his feet and tossed the wood away. Glaring down at Angel, “You deserve to burn in hell, but then again, so do I,” he added quietly and walked away leaving the other vampire to pick himself up. 

“If you two are finished with the big show of testosterone, can we go to Caritas now?” Cordelia asked. “And you can fill me in on why we are stationed there. I didn’t even get an abridged version on the ride down, due to two grown men henpecking each other.” 

“Well, you see, fair Cordelia, there’s this vamp cult that we didn’t get rid of entirely. So Angel has us hiding out,” Gunn filled in. 

Gunn and Cordelia led the way to where the cars were parked. Spike followed not even glancing at his Sire. Angel sighed and followed Spike, tenderly feeling his jaw where Spike had gotten a few good punches. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Caritas_**

Wesley paced in front of the bar, wearing a path in the floor under him. Fred sat beside Lorne reading the instruction leaflet that accompanied the magic-machine the handyman was installing when Lorne fired him. Lorne was currently trying to impersonate said fired handyman and finish the job. 

“Okay, okay, I’m _convinced_ I got it this time!” Lorne announced. 

Fred smacked Wesley on the shoulder as he paced by. 

“Ow!” Wesley said blandly as he pivoted and went the other way. 

Lorne grabbed the manual away from Fred, “Let me see that.” 

Fred and Wesley looked towards the doorway when the sound of stampeding feet came down the stairs. Angel appeared with a scowl, a black eye and busted lip. Then, Cordelia’s voice was heard before the woman herself appeared in the door. 

“I’m just saying that if you two would talk it out, maybe you’d get past this and then you can make out like wild jackrabbits . . . er, whatever.” 

“Now we’re jackrabbits? What happened to the antelope and elk analogy?” Angel asked acerbically. 

They were followed by the appearance of a haggard-looking Gunn and Spike who had the same dark scowl as Angel only he was favoring his ribcage. 

“Well, being a jackrabbit is a hell of a lot better than being a poncy, self-centered bastard,” Spike said to himself. He smirked when Angel glared at him. 

Lorne set the instruction manual aside and joined the group. “Boy, I need some fresh air. The waves of animosity are suffocating. Am I sensing a little lover’s spat with the roosters in the henhouse?” 

“Roost – Roosters now?!” Angel cried as he threw up his hands, walked over to a table and plopped down heavily in a chair. 

Lorne looked between Angel who had crossed his arms over his chest and the others. “Was it something I said?” 

“Leave off it, mate. Tall, dark and forehead over there is just licking his wounds after having his ass kicked around his courtyard for being a selfish prick,” Spike said as he headed for the bar. 

“Yeah, Angel hit Spike, totally body slammed him into the stone wall of the courtyard at the Hyperion,” Gunn said. 

“Oh Angel, you didn’t hurt him did you?” Fred asked horrified. She rushed over to Spike and started checking for wounds. 

“It’s okay Fred,” the blonde vampire said as he batted her hands away and reached for a beer bottle. “I’m made of stronger stuff than Angel gives me credit for.” 

“Yeah, blondie wiped the courtyard with him,” Gunn added. 

“Hey! I held my own. I defended myself just fine!” Angel said adamantly. 

That was answered by a smack to the back of the head by Cordelia. “If you weren’t such a stubborn . . . _vampire_ , you’d tell him you were wrong!” 

Spike scoffed and nearly choked on his drink at that. “Hell will definitely be frozen solid when that happens.” 

“I can’t believe you Angel! You’re supposed to be a champion,” Fred said as she gave the dark vampire a censured look. 

“Yeah Angel, you’re supposed to be a champion,” Spike mocked into his beer. 

“Do I have to remind you how those people up in Sunnydale treated him? They hate him up there Angel. They were mean to him and you’re just as bad,” Fred said. 

Angel rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, “He beats me all to hell. He gets a few bruises and he gets coddled.” Cordelia slapped him again. “What did I do?” 

“You made him go to the Hellmouth and Buffy was awful to him. She storms into his house making demands and expects him to do what she says,” Cordelia complained. 

“His house? I’m the one footing the bill on that place so he doesn’t have to live in a crypt,” Angel said irritably. 

“Right now, I’d take Cordelia’s lumpy couch over anything you have to offer. I’m not your fucking kept boy or your lapdog, you high-handed son of a bitch,” Spike grumbled. 

Angel got to his feet and moved menacingly closer, “If you hate me so much then why did you come back?” 

Spike spun around on his barstool, got to his feet and stepped closer until they were inches apart and glaring at each other. “To tell you that I’m not your bloody nursemaid, if you wanna take care of the Slayer, you can go up there and do it yourself!” 

“Time out on the lover’s spat,” Gunn cut in. “I just wanna know who’s gonna take care of my speeding ticket and the cab fare.” 

“If everyone would just calm down, we can discuss this rationally,” Wesley stepped in and made a placating gesture. 

“We left rational back when peaches here told me I had to give up my happy L.A. home and gave me a one-way ticket to the Hellmouth,” Spike answered with a challenging glare at Angel. 

Tired of being the scapegoat for everything and the glares of his team, Angel turned on his heel and stalked away. “That’s right, ponce, walk away when the going gets tough. It’s what you’re good at!” Spike yelled after him. When he got the American one-fingered salute, Spike’s brows furrowed in anger and he stomped after him to the back where Lorne’s living quarters were. 

“Don’t you walk away from me acting as if you’re the wronged party here,” Spike growled angrily. “You left me! Told me I had to be a bleedin’ babysitter to all the people you drop on my doorstep. You don’t want a lover, Angel. You want someone to clean up after you.” 

“What I want is for you to be gone. I don’t want you down here. Go back to Sunnydale,” Angel yelled back. 

“I don’t know if you’ve realized this in the century we’ve been acquainted, but I quit taking orders from you after the first time I caught you in bed with Drusilla,” Spike sneered. 

“Ah, wonderful memories that: your crestfallen expression when you saw that she wasn’t a one-demon vampire,” Angel mocked sarcastically. 

“Do you ever get tired of being a dick when you don’t get your way or is it a favorite pastime of yours?” Spike asked irritably. 

Angel finally spun around and faced his annoyed mate for the first time since Spike followed him to Lorne’s bedroom. And how ironic was it that they’d end up arguing in a bedroom – decorated in loud, garish colors though it was? Angel didn’t know whether to throw a punch to see where it landed and ended up bruising Spike’s flesh or his ego . . . _or_ throw his persistent childe on the bed and fuck the anger out of both of them. 

“For someone who hated me for the last month, you seem to be nipping at my heels,” Angel snapped. “Why didn’t you stay in Sunnydale like I told you to?” 

“First, oh great hulking master of your own universe, I don’t give a fuck what you want anymore. There are two of us in this godforsaken relationship . . . such as it is. And second, with all my duties as babysitter, I have no clue who the bloody hell I’m supposed to look after with all the women you drop on my doorstep.” 

“I only have three women: Cordelia, Fred and you when you’re bitching at me,” Angel said smugly. 

Spike automatically hit him and blackened the other eye. “I wouldn’t have to say anything if you weren’t a selfish . . .” 

Angel grabbed Spike’s wrists to stop the next punch and said gravely, “You’re a distraction I can’t afford right now.” 

Spike’s expression changed in a kaleidoscope of emotions ranging from shock to hurt to devastation. “I’m a . . .? I’m a distraction!? Have you gone completely around the bend? You’re the one that put the claims on me. You tracked me down and completed them. You forced me to stay in Sunnydale to look after Buffy, yanking me back and forth like a rubber ball and you have the gall to say **_I’m_** the distraction?!” 

“You’re still arguing? I thought you’d have this hashed out by now,” Gunn said as he led the team into the room. 

“Angel, is that a black eye forming?” Fred asked concerned. 

Angel tenderly touched the spot where Spike slugged him for calling him a woman. “It’s all right, Fred. He’s just letting off steam.” 

“It’s no more than you deserve for the way you’ve been treating him,” Fred scoffed as she walked past him without so much as a glance at his injured face. 

“Gotta admit, she’s gained a backbone since you stopped her crush,” Spike chuckled. “Between slugging Xander in the Bronze and that display, they’re two of my favorite memories.” 

“Uh yeah,” Angel said watching Fred ignore him as she walked out. Then, he turned back to Spike. “Why are you here again?” 

“You’re unbelievable,” Spike said as he pulled free of Angel’s grasp, glaring at him. The sense of awe he had for Fred’s display was shoved away by his Sire’s obtuse behavior. 

Wesley looked between Angel and Spike and motioned for Angel to step out of the room with him. Spike’s brows furrowed as he watched something pass between his Sire and the former watcher. He didn’t move when Angel followed Wesley out. 

Angel closed the door and turned to Wesley, “What? What is it?” 

“It’s deplorable how you’re treating him. We could use his help while he’s down here. Why are you trying to drive him away?” Wesley asked. 

“Because I don’t need him here,” Angel hissed. “I don’t want him here. I want him gone.” 

“You’re protecting him,” Wesley observed. “But from what? It seems that Spike is equipped to take care of himself if your face is anything to go by.” 

The thunder rumbling outside matched Angel’s dark mood. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is for Spike to go back to Sunnydale where he should have stayed. I don’t need his help to clean up my problems.” 

“That’s a little late coming don’t you think? You sent him there to look after Buffy. You sent Darla and Cordelia to him. All he’s done is deal with your problems. He’s not a manservant, Angel. He’s your mate and with this Tro-Clan business we could really use his help,” Wesley insisted. 

“He’s right Angel,” Cordelia said as she joined them. 

Angel pushed past them, bumping into Gunn. Spike was pacing the room as he listened to Lorne advising him with drink in hand. 

“What is this, an intervention? We’re vampires, not a human couple bent on divorce. Lorne, get out of here,” Angel said as he gestured wildly towards the door. 

“It’s my room,” Lorne pointed out as he got to his feet. When Angel gave him a dark look, he slunk out. 

“Way to handle that, ponce. Kick the demon out of his own house,” Spike said bemused. 

Lorne walked away from his door with a cringe when he heard glass break.  He didn’t want to think about what that could possibly be. He joined the rest of the group in the club area. 

“Are they still arguing it out?” Gunn asked. 

“No, they’re past arguing and moved into fighting it out,” Lorne said glibly. 

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Fred asked apprehensively. 

“I think they just need time alone to hash it out,” Cordelia said, hoping she was right. 

The mood of the group had turned somber with Angel walking around acting like a grumpy Papa Bear. To lighten the mood, Lorne piped up optimistically, “Okay! Everybody’s drinking. I’m buying.” He went over to the bar just as Holtz walked into the club. “Oh, hello,” Lorne said. 

Holtz looked at the demon with distaste and returned the greeting. 

“Well, we’re not open at the moment. Why don’t you come back tomorrow night?” Lorne said as he handed over a flyer. “It’s the grand re-opening. Here’s a flyer.” 

“Thanks,” Holtz said as he accepted the paper. Lorne nodded and walked behind the bar to pour the drinks he had promised the team. 

Holtz took a slow look around the place. Then, he turned and walked out, singing quietly, “Sleep, my love and peace attend thee.” Lorne started to hum along as he busied himself. “All through the night, guardian angels God will send you, all through the night . . .” 

Lorne’s eyes widened when he unintentionally read Holtz. He dropped a bottle and glass back onto the counter. “Run!” 

“What’s going on?” Cordelia asked. All she saw was a frantic Pylean demon rushing towards her, telling her to run for no apparent reason. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

“Just run! Run!” Lorne yelled as he headed for his apartment at the back of club. Spike and Angel’s shouting reunion would have to wait for another day when impending doom wasn’t hanging over their heads. The others got up and followed him, more concerned that Lorne may be insane than whatever he was running from. 

Just as they cleared the room a red metal barrel tumbled down the stairs and came to rest on the inside of the security doorway. A few seconds later, a grenade bounced down the steps and landed beside it. Then, the building rocked as the grenade exploded and a big fireball swept through the club, destroying everything in its wake. 

In the apartment, Angel helped Spike up off the floor. He and Angel were arguing until they heard the click of the grenade. Angel threw Spike down on the ground and covered him with the bulk of his body as the building rocked with the explosion. Their hands were still clasped when the group ran in. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Spike asked annoyed. 

“We’re being attacked,” Wesley offered. 

“Attacked?” Angel repeated. His brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you had double protection sanctorum spells?” 

“I was working on it when you showed up,” Lorne said anxiously. “It’s a thing with the door, and the stairs and the world and that other thing. Never mind!” 

“Apparently you can be outside and shove stuff in,” Gunn translated. 

“I just said that,” Lorne said, sounding as annoyed as Spike. 

Just then, a burning beam crashed through the ceiling between Spike and Angel. The younger vampire let out a string of expletives as he sidestepped the flaming wood: two things that every vampire should avoid at all costs. He carefully made his way around the beam to join the others. 

“It’s Holtz,” Angel announced to no one in particular. 

“What?” Spike asked over the blazing fire. 

“Come on, we got to move the bed,” Lorne told the others and they moved to help him. 

“How is that possible?” Spike asked. 

“He’s here. This is why I wanted you gone. I can’t have you distracting me while he’s hunting me. You’re a liability,” Angel said. 

“A vampire hunter from the seventeenth century is hunting you in the twenty-first century and I’m the distraction. I would think you could use me. He doesn’t know I exist. You’ve only told me stories about him and even then it wasn’t like I paid attention,” Spike shrugged. 

“Darla and I killed his family. Darla turned his daughter as a message,” Angel said, giving the memo version. 

“You killed _that_ family?” Spike asked with a raised brow. 

“What? I was evil then,” Angel replied. 

**************************

The group pulled the bed out while the vampires argued. “What’s behind the bed?” Gunn asked. 

“An old loading dock door,” Lorne replied as he pulled other items out of the way. “I had the whole place converted.” 

“What’s on the other side?” Wesley asked. 

“An Alley,” was the distracted reply. 

**************************

“Angel, a _vampire hunter_ that should, by rights, be _dead_ is here now, hunting us!” Spike emphasized. 

“I know that! I didn’t want you in the middle of it, but you have a cement block for a brain,” Angel yelled over the blaze. 

“Well you weren’t exactly clear,” Spike shouted back. 

“Are you so dense that you have to have things spelled out for you? I thought you were a scholar when you were human,” Angel said scathingly. 

“Well, excuse the bloody hell out me for coming down here to rescue something that wasn’t worth it to you. If we get out of this, I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again, you ungrateful pillock!” 

“ _When_ ,” Angel stressed, “we get out of this you’re going back to Sunnydale and staying there like I told you to.” 

“To hell with you, Angel,” Spike sneered. “You can’t tell me what to do.” 

“I think I’ve proved I can force you to do anything I need you to,” Angel said. 

“I’ll stake you myself when we get out of here,” Spike promised. 

“Goddamn it, Spike! Holtz is hunting me. I just as soon not make you a target. Why do you always have to argue with me? Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?” 

“No. I see you trying to make decisions for whatever you think are right for our relationship as well as dictate my life and where you want me in yours.” Spike held up his hand with his fingers a few millimeters apart. “‘Oh, there’s Spike, I wonder where I can fit him into my life when it’s more convenient for me’,” he mocked. He dropped his hand. “I’m not a convenience! I may not have a soul or a beating heart. But I’m _not_ something you can just squeeze into your schedule. So what if a hunter from the Old World is here? It shouldn’t matter. What’s the point in having a _mate_ if you don’t want them around?” 

**************************

“Do you have a hammer or mallet, anything?” Gunn asked. 

“Buddha head,” Wesley said, perplexed at the garish accessories Lorne collected. He handed it to Gunn. 

“A rhino,” Cordelia offered as she handed it to Wesley. 

The vampires continued to argue over the important things in life as the humans hauled back with the statues and attacked the wall. 

“Angel, Spike, we could use some vampire strength here!” Wesley yelled over his shoulder. 

They looked over to see the humans putting dents in the wall of Lorne’s bedroom. They moved between Wesley and Gunn who stepped aside and watched them batter down the wall with fists and feet, taking out their anger with each other’s obstinate behavior on the wall. Unbeknownst to them, Holtz walked through the burning remains of the club, moving steadily closer to his target. 

The back alley was lit by Chinese-style lanterns. Angel broke through into it first from Lorne’s bedroom. Wooden shards flew as the hole became larger as Spike burst through his side and he stumbled outside. Cordelia stepped through it, followed by Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne. 

“You can drop dead . . . again,” Spike yelled over the burgeoning storm. 

“Come on, baby, you don’t mean that,” Angel mocked. 

Spike threw a punch and clipped Angel on the jaw. The dark vampire tripped him and he landed on the damp ground. Spike put his foot up and pushed against Angel’s chest when he bent over to grab him by the shirt. 

“Fred and I are going to get the car,” Cordelia said as she dragged Fred along with her. 

“I think I’ll go with you,” Wesley said. 

“I’m coming with,” Gunn said as he followed. “Think they’ll be done by the time we get back?” 

“Damn it, Spike, quit playing around. Holtz is right behind us. We don’t have time to deal with your issues,” Angel said as he tried to grab his errant childe again. 

“My issues?” Spike inquired as he rolled to his feet out of Angel’s reach. “Fucking prick, if one of us has issues, it’s you! You’re not trying to protect me! You’re easing your guilty conscience. What is it, Angel? The past won’t stay dead for you with Holtz back?” 

“Did you come down here just for the purpose of starting a fight with me?” Angel asked angrily as he moved closer. 

“I _did not_ agree to be your mate so that I can be ordered around like a minion,” Spike said. “I’m bloody well sick of it. I didn’t sign on to be a catch-all babysitter. If you can’t see that through all your brooding, self-centered egotistical . . . If you can’t see me as more than your childe, where all I did was take care of Dru for you then we can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore, Angel.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Angel yelled over the rain. “You can’t mean that. After all we’ve been through the last few years. You’re going to give up now?” 

“I’m not the one giving up. I didn’t give up when you were forced to leave me a century ago. I didn’t give up when you kicked me off that submarine in the Atlantic. I didn’t give up back in Sunnydale. I wasn’t the one that kept turning his back on whatever convolution this relationship morphed into. You did. You always do!” 

Holtz stepped through the hole in Lorne's wall into the alley. He lifted the crossbow and aimed it at Angel as he grabbed hold of the person with him. 

Angel grabbed Spike by the arms and pulled him against his body. “We’re mated for life. You can’t just undo that when you want to.” 

“I’m not undoing it. I knew what I was saying yes to. Did you? I knew what being mated meant. I even prepared myself for being mated to you. But I won’t let you throw me like a boomerang hoping I’ll come back at your beck and call. I know, compared to you, I don’t have much of a life, but it’s mine.” 

Holtz watched them over his crossbow, his finger easing onto the trigger ready to send the demon that killed his family straight to hell. 

Angel could feel the vampire hunter behind him. He could smell the human through the scent of the rain. Just as he knew the hunter had a weapon pointed at his back. He could very well lose his life at this moment with Spike hating him. With his mate giving him an ultimatum. 

“You can’t escape me so easily,” Angel said. 

“If I wanted that, I wouldn’t follow you as I do. But I can’t deal with this anymore. It has to change, Angel. I’ve changed over the last few years, but you refuse to see it because you’re still the same. There’s got to be more to your life than brooding over things you’ve done a century ago. You have to face Holtz on your own and get past it or there won’t be a future for either of us.” 

When Angel turned to literally see Holtz pointing an arrow at his back, Spike reached out and stopped him. He pulled the other vampire closer and pressed a kiss to the rain-cool lips. After a moment, Angel crushed Spike against him, extending the kiss. When he tried to do more, Spike pulled away. 

Head bent, Spike walked through the rain without a backward glance. He didn’t see Angel watching him, motionless, or Holtz, weapon still trained on Angel, but following his progress. 

Holtz turned back to lock eyes with his enemy. Angel, thunderstruck at what transpired in the past few minutes, stared back at Holtz. The repercussions hadn’t sunk in quite yet. Did Spike mean to leave him for good: still mated, but unfulfilled? Did Spike mean they had a chance? If he really did lose Spike tonight, couldn’t Holtz just pull the trigger and end his existence? 

Angel’s car came to halt at the mouth of the alley and Wesley got out with weapon in hand. When Angel noticed the car, Spike was nowhere to be seen. Holtz slowly lowered his crossbow allowing Angel to pass as an idea formed in his mind. Something that was better than shooting his nemesis in cold blood. 

“Do it! Now’s your chance,” Sahjhan yelled as he came into view from a crevice in the wall of another building. “Do it! Finish it while you still can! You can’t just let him walk away! Not after what you swore to me!” 

Holtz ignored Sahjhan as he watched a broken demon slowly trudge back to his car and waiting friends. “I swore that I would show no mercy.” He watched Angel speak to Wesley before he got in the car and it drove away. “And I won’t.”


	17. Chapter 42-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 42-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 9)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel remained silent on ride back to the hotel. Fred, Gunn and Cordelia repeatedly asked what happened with Spike but he had yet to say anything. The group walked into the lobby of the hotel as the thunderstorm raged outside. To Angel, it matched the anger of his mate who left him in the alley with Holtz. He couldn’t believe Holtz was really back. Furthermore, he couldn’t believe that Holtz had let him walk away after waiting two hundred years to seek revenge. Angel didn’t know what the vampire hunter was up to, but the sooner he found out, the better. 

“Angel, where did Spike go? What did you say to him? We have to find him and bring him back and then you are going to apologize to him for being a dumb ass,” Cordelia said as she walked into the hotel with the others. She saw the blood-splattered equipment that littered the floor from the fight between the Grapplar demons and Wolfram  & Hart’s SWAT team. “Right after we _gut_ and _remodel_ the _entire_ hotel.” 

“There’s blood over here,” Gunn announced, examining the floor where Holtz had held Angel captive. 

Angel and Fred stood by taking in the carnage now that the lights were on. It had been dark when it had happened and they were in a rush to get out of the hotel. It seemed Wolfram  & Hart’s cleanup crew removed the bodies of the SWAT team, but left the evidence. 

“Not to mention some bastard’s blown a gaping hole in the lift,” Wesley scoffed. 

Upon hearing that, Angel looked up. “Sorry. My bastard.” 

“Oh. Well,” Wesley shrugged, “Not like we ever use it.” 

Just then, someone walked up to the front door. Angel turned, standing protectively in front of Fred. Gunn lifted his ax and Wesley aimed a crossbow at the person entering the hotel, hidden by a big umbrella. 

Lorne lowered the umbrella and recoiled at the sight of grim expressions and weaponry aimed at him. “Is that anyway to welcome a houseguest?” 

Everyone lowered their weapons. Gunn raised a brow, “Houseguest?” 

Lorne shook the raindrops off the umbrella and folded it up, “Well, I figured since you all managed to destroy my club . . . twice . . . that I wouldn’t be imposing if I hit you up for a place to stay.” Then, he noticed the mess in the lobby. “On second thought, maybe I should reconsider that standing offer I have from a marginally attractive Mulix demon.” 

“Well, if he, she or it has more suitable accommodations . . .” Wesley suggested. 

“So, where’s Spike?” Lorne inquired. “I figured after you two destroyed my living quarters, it was all one big, giant make-up party.” 

“We’ve all been wondering that, but have yet to get an answer out of him,” Cordelia said with an eye roll towards Angel. When he pointedly ignored her, she harrumphed and walked over to sit down on the steps leading to the lobby from the courtyard. 

Gunn picked up a cleaver that lay on the counter and studied it. “I don’t even wanna know.” 

“You think you can throw it?” Fred asked, peeking around Angel’s arm. 

“I guess, why?” Gunn asked. 

Fred pointed at something behind him. “There!” 

Gunn turned and saw a demon leaping over the railing outside the glass doors behind Cordelia. She glanced back and jumped up with a scream as the demon charged towards them. 

“Bogie at the back door!” Gunn announced as he threw his weapon at the same time Wesley pulled the trigger on his crossbow. Angel, weaponless at the moment, shielded Fred with his body. The demon, scimitar raised above its head, fell backwards onto the steps, the cleaver buried in his chest and Wesley’s crossbow bolt in its neck. 

“Well, that was bracing,” Cordelia said sardonically. 

“The Tro-clan prophecy does involve a confluence of events,” Wesley said thoughtfully. “A seventeenth century vampire hunter teleporting to the twenty-first century along with the rise in demon violence; we need to research what it means, and what’s in store for us, assuming we’re heading towards another apocalypse.” 

“Which means we need a plan,” Gunn added. “We do make a plan right? We don’t just let them kill us.” 

“If we had Spike around to help, maybe . . .” Wesley started to say. 

“I don’t have Spike around!” Angel’s voice was like a crack of lightning. Even Fred backed away from him. “He’s gone! End of discussion!” 

“Angel, calm down,” Cordelia placated as she took a step towards him. “He can’t have gone too far without wheels.” 

Angel made a high whimpering sound in his throat and paced the floor in front of the courtyard entrance. None of them had ever heard the sound come from him before. He paced a few more lines and then sat down on the step and put his head in his hands, using the heel of his palms to rub his eyes. 

Wesley disappeared down the hallway leading to the kitchen and dug the dry erase board out of the storage closet. He wheeled it into the middle of the lobby, popped the cap off a marker and started making a list of possible enemies and how they may fit into the Tro-clan prophecy. 

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Angel looked up at the growing list. One side had a list of known players in the prophecy: Holtz, Wolfram & Hart, cults. The other side had possible players. 

“Order of Philleas, Piper Beast, The Scourge, Frank?” Angel inquired. 

“Local mobster who specializes in kidnapping,” Gunn replied. 

Seeing the last name in the second column, Angel got to his feet, stormed across the room and thumped the board hard enough for it to rattle. “Why is Spike’s name on this with a question mark? He left me in the alley. The last place he wants to be is L.A. I doubt he’ll be any part of the prophecy, especially if it has to do with me.” 

“Be that as it may, he’s connected to you so that puts him in the ‘possibility’ category,” Wesley said, becoming annoyed over the whole situation with the two vampires. 

“Fine, so all we have to do is erase everyone on it,” Angel said as he walked to the reception desk. 

“I can do that for you,” Fred said as she picked up the dry eraser and followed through. 

“Ah, Fred . . .” Cordelia prompted. 

Fred paused and looked over her shoulder. “What? Oh, you meant erase in a squish and kill violent kind of way. I’ll just put that back.” She added Holtz back on the list. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles_**

Los Angeles was a sprawling city of lights and the beat of nightlife. Women walked the streets in groups, clothed in skin-tight skirts and tighter tops that displayed a generous swell of cleavage; perfect prey for a vampire. They were begging to be bitten. At least from Spike’s point of view. 

He’d been walking the streets since he left Angel in the alley behind Caritas. He strolled down the sidewalk with his hands buried in his coat pockets. He puffed on the cigarette between his lips, holding the tip with his teeth as he blew out the smoke. The men, women and couples that passed by were ignored. He scented them: human sweat, cologne, perfume, pheromones, everything that made them human. They were no consequence to him. All that was on his mind was Angel and his relationship with the heartless bastard. 

Angel may have cared about him but as far as Spike was concerned, his Sire had a funny way of showing it. Spike had to walk away from Angel in that alley. He was tired of being a dumping ground for Angel’s problems. He was supposed to be a soulless vampire, not a babysitter. He wasn’t put on this earth to clean up after his Sire no matter what the elder vampire thought. 

Spike turned the corner of a tree-lined neighborhood. When he saw the security light on in the archway of Pearson Arms he stopped. Looking around the dark street, he realized that he managed to walk to Cordelia’s apartment from Lorne’s place. He walked up the sidewalk to her door. Just as he was about to reach for the handle, the door opened by itself. 

“Hey Denis,” Spike said as he walked into the apartment and heard the door shut behind him with a soft snick. 

Spike walked into the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. Just as he sat down on the couch, the TV flicked on and the remote floated over to him. 

“Thanks,” Spike said as he took it and started flipping through channels. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Underground_**

Following Holtz into their underground lair, Sahjhan scoffed, “Well _that_ was a thrilling evening. It’s not like I’ve been waiting two hundred and fifty years for you to take your blood vengeance on Angel to have you just stand there and let him walk away.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me he had someone he cared about?” Holtz demanded as he continued on his way. 

“Why should that matter? So what if he’s mated to his childe. Shouldn’t make a bit of difference,” Sahjhan shrugged. 

Holtz spun around and glared at him. “Angel’s mated to the blonde fellow?” 

“Yeah,” Sahjhan said as if it were common knowledge. 

Holtz thought about it for a moment then turned on his heel and continued walking. “That makes things interesting doesn’t it? I always thought it was just Angel and Darla but Angel told me Darla died as a human. He never said anything about the boy that was with him in the alley.” Holtz smirked, “Darla got off too easily, dying as she did. She had a soul, means that she could have repented for her sins. This new development means I have to change my plans, but not too much. Angel’s demise will still be a great deal more painful.” 

“You know you throw around a lot of big words like ‘death’ and ‘pain’ and ‘no mercy’, but so far I haven’t seen the results,” Sahjhan said. “Listen to me, Holtz, we got prophecies to fulfill. We don’t need some deep, dark plan for Angel. You put a stake in him, you watch him go poof! It’s a classic.” 

“Step one is getting rid of these minions,” Holtz said, turning to face the Grapplar demons that had been following them, munching noisily on fast food. 

“No,” Sahjhan said bluntly. “Step one is poof, and then there are no more steps. Besides, we can’t get rid of the Grapplars. I signed a two-week contract. Trust me you don’t want to piss these guys off.” 

“They’re soulless beasts bred to maim and kill,” Holtz said smirking as one of the beasts looked strangely at his food and drink. 

“Ah! Maim and kill,” Sahjhan nodded. “Two more words I like. Well, you’re gonna need these guys – unless your plan is to kill Angel with candy clowns and marshmallow pies.” Sahjhan turned around when the Grapplars started choking. “What’s happening?” 

“I need more than mere fighters,” Holtz said darkly. 

“They’re choking!” Sahjhan cried. “Do you know the Heimlich? I can’t do it in this dimension. My arms will go right through them.” The Grapplars dropped to the ground one by one. Sahjhan jerked around to face Holtz. “What did you do?” 

“I poisoned their drink,” Holtz said in a calm voice. 

“Why?!” 

“Because I don’t need mercenaries who will kill for anyone willing to pay their price,” Holtz bit out. “I need warriors who will die for my cause . . .” One of the remaining Grapplars chose that moment to charge him from behind. He killed the Grapplar with a backward thrust of his sword without taking his eyes off Sahjhan. “. . . Like that.” 

“Great,” Sahjhan threw up his hands in frustration as he looked around at the bodies. “So step one is I’m stuck with four costly and dead demons. What’s step two?” 

Holtz walked over to a desktop computer. “We can find information using this box – correct?” 

“Yeah. You won’t believe how fast my connection is. What do you wanna find?” Sahjhan asked. He passed his hand in front of the monitor and the entry page of Demons, Demons, Demons database appeared. 

“Obituaries,” Holtz replied. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia sat at her desk searching the Demons, Demons, Demons database for the non-human species listed on Wesley’s whiteboard. Gunn and Fred sat on the round settee suggesting other possible enemies while Angel watched and sulked from his position of lying on the couch. 

His heart wasn’t in it anymore since Spike left him in the alley. Let all the demons of Hell come for him. Let the world end in a hail of fire. Let Wolfram  & Hart finally turn him evil so that he could kill every lawyer and burn the place down without a qualm. What did he care anymore? Spike was gone. Not dust, just gone. He’d feel it if Spike had dusted even without the link they have – had, Angel reminded himself. They _had_ a connection and Spike all but severed it. Spike was like his glass of blood. Somewhere close but out of reach and he couldn’t bring himself to fix it. What was there to fix? His reason for existing was gone. He couldn’t begin to know where to start. 

Oblivious to Angel’s inner turmoil, Gunn suggested another enemy, “What about that ninja guy that attacked us at the hospital?” 

“The vampire cult killed him before he did anything,” Wesley commented. 

“There could be more of them,” Fred said, looking at Gunn and Cordelia to see if they agreed with her. 

Cordelia nodded as she continued to type, “The world is a sick and demented place.” 

Fred jumped up and added ‘Ninja guys’ to the column of known threats. 

“What does it matter, we’re all going to die someday anyway, even me,” Angel said in a disheartened tone. Everyone glared at him. 

“I just as soon not have my death not be in the imminent future,” Gunn countered. 

“Right,” Fred agreed as she took Cordelia’s place in the front of the laptop. Just then a blue flash lit up the hotel and everyone but Angel looked around for the source. Angel just heaved a dejected sigh. 

“What was that?” Fred asked. 

“Oh, just listening to those Furies gives me whiplash! Know what I mean, Angelcakes,” Lorne said. When Angel didn’t confirm or deny him, the empath demon shrugged. “Thank God they finally left. My head was about to pop off. Which, granted, not that big of a deal.” 

“That flash was their spell kicking in?” Wesley asked. 

“Yeah, they put a force field over the entire hotel. No one or thing can get in or out,” Lorne said assuredly. 

“So, we’re all safe, right Lorne? I-I mean unless one of those killers,” Fred gestured towards the whiteboard, “decides to throw a fire bomb in at us like they did at your club, which had a similar safety spell around it as I recall,” she rattled on and subsequently realized that everyone was staring at her and blushed. “Sorry.” 

Angel sat up and slouched against the couch. He reached out next to him, reflexively searching for Spike only to meet the fabric of the couch. His frown deepened as he got to his feet. “She’s right. We won’t be safe here for long.” 

“Well, we can get out if we have to. I installed an emergency exit down in the sewers. A-a mystical barrier, opens and closes with a password,” Lorne said, giving Fred a knowing smile, “Pylean word for hedgehog.” 

“Oh,” Fred said. “Oh!” she repeated as she remembered what that word was and started giggling. 

Gunn looked from Fred’s suspicious behavior to Lorne. “I’m guessing it means something very different in English?” 

“Are there any fluorescent lights in here?” Lorne asked as he looked up at the ceiling. “I keep hearing this hum. Plus, fluorescent – green light, green skin – it’s all bad.” He looked at the group who watched him. “I’ll take the blank stares as a big fat no.” 

Angel had moved over to the weapons cabinet, searching it for anything to stave off a brewing war. Maybe that would take his mind off Spike. He was good at killing things, including his own relationship, apparently. Shaking his head to clear it of thoughts of his dismal circumstances, he focused on the task at hand. 

“Gunn?” 

“Yeah,” Gunn replied, joining Angel at the cabinet. 

“I’m in a war here.” _With myself more so than the demons out to start the next apocalypse_ , Angel thought. “I’m gonna need some serious firepower,” He said. _Now that Spike isn’t here with me._

“You mean besides something beyond swords and spears?” Gunn inquired. 

Angel nodded. “Way beyond.” 

“I know some guys. Leave it to me,” Gunn said. 

“Thanks,” Angel said, closing the cabinet and headed for the counter. “Are we making any headway on that list, locating them before they find us?” 

“Not yet,” Fred replied. 

“It’s going to take a little time,” Cordelia added. 

“That’s something we don’t have,” Angel stated, looking at the whiteboard. “Are these all the names?” 

“Working on some other leads,” Wesley said. “We all want the same thing, Angel. We’re doing the best we can.” 

“Do better!” Angel nearly shouted making Fred jump. 

“Angel!” Wesley said louder. 

“Look, just find me something to maim or kill and point me at it,” Angel said irritated before he stormed up the stairs. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Linwood Morrow stood at the head of a conference table flanked by Lilah and Gavin sitting on either side. A flat screen TV was at the end of the table showing a live feed of the lobby at the Hyperion. 

Linwood picked up a photo of Holtz taken from his torture session with Angel. The cameras having night vision capabilities. “I want everything there is on this character. He slaughtered some of our best-trained men. He’s going to be a problem.” 

“We’re locating him, sir,” Lilah assured him. 

“ _Preferably_ before he locates us,” Linwood emphasized. He let the picture fall back to the table and stepped towards the TV screen. “Where’s the blonde man? I haven’t seen him on the tapes for a couple of weeks. Did he just disappear?” 

“According to my resources, he comes and goes. He hasn’t been back to the hotel since Angel got the phone call from Sunnydale saying that his former girlfriend was back from the dead,” Lilah informed her boss. 

Linwood turned towards her. “Another player?” 

“Uh, no sir, she’s the original vampire slayer stationed on the Hellmouth before Faith showed up,” Lilah said. 

“Faith. Where have I heard that name before?” Linwood said thoughtfully. 

“Sir?” Lilah inquired. 

“Oh yeah, your and Lindsey McDonald’s botched plan to kill Angel,” Linwood surmised. 

Lilah shook off the embarrassment she felt at being called on her past dealings with her former co-worker. “Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Well, let me know when we have anything,” Linwood said before walking out of the room. Lilah and Gavin exchanged a look and shrugged. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel sat in his room brooding over a book. It was an unsuccessful way to get his mind off Spike. Of course if he looked up, the sight of his king size bed was a perfect reminder of what he didn’t have. He bought it the day after he realized Spike was staying at the hotel on a regular basis. He rarely felt the mattress anymore. As far as he was concerned – since Spike went back with Buffy – it was just a place to crash after a night of fighting demons. 

Why couldn’t Spike see what he was doing? He had Holtz on his tail again after nearly two hundred years. The last thing Angel wanted was for Spike to get in the middle of it or to have Wolfram  & Hart use him. The way Spike sounded in the alley it probably wouldn’t take much for him to join forces with the law firm bent on destroying him. And what better way than use his mate and childe? 

Angel shut the book and put it on the lamp-base table next to his chair. Getting to his feet, he went to the window at the pre-dawn sky. He doubted Spike had left the city; he wouldn’t have made it to Sunnydale by now. So that meant his boy was out there somewhere, huddled in a shelter until nightfall. 

_What am I going to with him, Angelus?_

He was answered by silence. That’s great. His mate walked away from him and now his own demon was ignoring him. This time last year, everything had been fine. He and Spike were reasonably happy even while he was going after Wolfram  & Hart for using Darla to get to him. Angel couldn’t see where it went wrong. Why was Spike punishing him for trying to keep him safe? 

Lorne walked into the room and stood beside him. Angel didn’t acknowledge the demon, instead choosing to stare out the window. 

“He left me,” Angel said quietly. 

“He’ll be fine. He’s resourceful. Probably holed up at the Beverly Hilton by now,” Lorne said. 

“He told me that it was over. He all but severed the link between us, Lorne,” Angel said disconsolately. 

“Okay, so he’s upset. Don’t you think he has a right to be? The person he’s mated to for life keeps pushing him away,” Lorne said pointedly stared at Angel. “He’s not _just_ your childe anymore, rhubarb crumble. He’s your other half now. He’s changed and you haven’t noticed. He’s not something you can discard when you’re bored with him. He has a heart. Granted it isn’t beating, but it is broken.” 

Angel sat down in the wingback chair with a sigh. “I don’t know how to fix it. I’m just trying to protect him from Holtz.” 

“Spike can handle himself, he doesn’t need protecting. You weren’t too worried about Wolfram  & Hart going after him, so why are you worried about a vampire hunter doing it? I’ve heard Spike sing. He doesn’t have a bad voice either, could give you a run for your money in a singing contest.” That earned him a scowl. “Anyway, I’ve read him. He exists to be with you and whether he wants to admit or not, he loves you.” 

“You read him wrong then,” Angel insisted, starting to feel agitated. 

“Sorry, strudel, but it’s the truth. And it’s not just when you’re singing. We got a term back in Pylea, Kyrumption?” Lorne said as he watched the dark vampire. 

Angel rubbed his temples and looked up at him. “I know it.” 

“Okay, well when two great heroes come together . . .” Lorne started to say. 

Angel stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. “There will be _no_ coming together, okay?” He waved his hands dramatically. “After what happened in the alley? It’s not happening! He would laugh if he even heard that you called him a hero. He’s a soulless vampire.” 

“You can’t fight Kyrumption, cinnamon stick. It’s fate. It’s the stars. Kyrumption is . . .” 

“Stop saying that!” Angel cut in with a scowl. “And stop calling me pastries.” 

Lorne watched for a moment as Angel paced in front of him. “You’re a man of many limitations, Angel. But you are still a man. You’ve got a heart. And Spike is surprisingly a great guy once you get to know him.” Lorne shrugged. “What I mean is, he’s worthy of being a champion, soul or not, just as you were.” 

“He doesn’t want me,” Angel said gruffly. 

Lorne took his place in the chair and all but gawked at the vampire. “Are you serious? He does want you. Who else would nearly wreck Gunn’s truck trying to get back here to give you a piece of his mind? Who else would follow you as he does since you made him? He wants you, Angel. He willingly mated with you. I don’t exactly know your history with Buffy . . .,” that earned him a scowl. “. . . And whatever true happiness you had with her that made you lose your soul. You may not have that with Spike, but that doesn’t make what you do have with him any less real. He cares about you. All you have to do is open your eyes and see it.” 

Lorne stood up and walked out of the room leaving Angel to himself as he sat down in the chair again and proceeded to brood over his relationship with Spike. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Day_**

As he waited behind a chain-link fence, Holtz pulled out a paper with an obituary for a young girl named Julia Cooper. Just then, the sound of a door opening caused him to look up to see a girl identical to the one in the obituary walk out of the building across the street and squint at the bright sunlight. She lit a cigarette and walked off. Holtz followed her, turning a corner to see the barely smoked cigarette drop to the ground. Without thinking, he raised his hand to catch the girl’s fist as she swung on him. 

“Your punch could have been quicker . . . without so much to drink,” he critiqued blandly. 

Justine gave him a smug look, sneering, “It’s kind of a trade off, because without that much to drink,” She knocked her forehead into his, “hurts a lot more.” 

Holtz tossed her against a nearby parked car as if she were a doll, unfazed by her actions. “You stick to the shadows.” 

“I’m not much of a day person,” she cut in. She grabbed a two-by-four lying on the ground next to her feet and picked herself up. 

“I’m not here to fight,” Holtz said simply. 

“Your bad luck,” Justine shrugged. She swung at him, but he easily evaded her attack and pushed her up against the wall of the building, his hand around her throat. 

“I know you’re in pain. I what it’s like to grieve,” Holtz said solemnly. They stared at each other a moment before he released her. 

She lifted a finger and tapped him on the chin. “Nice goatee. Kind of rounds out the whole creepy stalker look. I’ll be moving on now.” 

When she turned to leave, he called after her, “Justine.” She turned back with a quizzical look. “I’m not finished.” 

“You know my name?” she asked warily. 

“I know everything. You live at 1722 Spaulding. You stay out all night; sleep all day, ever since your sister was murdered six months ago.” He unfolded the printout of the obituary and handed it to her. “Your twin. It wasn’t a mugging like the paper said, was it? Major blood loss, two unidentifiable neck wounds.” 

Justine glanced at her sister’s picture and shrugged. “So?” 

“My name is Daniel Holtz. I want to help you,” he said. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” she said, stepping up to him. “I want you to stay the hell away from me.” She turned and walked away leaving Holtz behind. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel_**

Fred was hunched over the laptop as Cordelia brought two cups of coffee over and set one down beside her. 

“Thanks,” Fred said quietly. As she sipped from her mug, she glanced up to see Angel trudging down the stairs. “Uh-oh, we’re still hunting up leads on those names.” 

“Relax, I’ll handle it.” Cordelia gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Coffee mug in hand, she walked over to Angel just as he hit the entryway stairs. “Get any sleep?” 

Angel scrubbed his hands down his face and looked at her with a weary expression; his shoulders slumped from hours of sitting his chair staring out the window from a safe distance, thinking about his relationship with Spike. “No, rough night.” 

“Thinking about him?” Cordelia asked with a raised brow. 

Angel glared at her for a flash of a second and his jaw ticked and then it was gone just as quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a clipped tone. 

“Maybe when things have cooled down you could . . .” Cordelia started to say. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Angel cut in. He looked down at her outfit. “Have you been wearing the same clothes for the last three days? You have wrinkles.” 

Cordelia looked down at her attire. The horrified expression that slowly animated her normally beautiful features was almost comical. Angel would have laughed if he was in a better mood. He watched her collect her purse and run out of the hotel with a cry of dismay just as Lorne was coming down the stairs. 

“Good morning all,” Lorne greeted happily. “What has little Miss Cordelia running out of here as fast her high heels can carry her?” 

“She just realized that her designer clothes do not stand up well after three days,” Angel shrugged. 

Lorne draped an arm over Angel’s shoulder as he leaned closer, chuckling, “I can never see her in anything other than pristine and pressed clothes. She’s not the type to shop at the Gap, y’know. Looks like you could have dug through _your own closet_ for a clean shirt.” 

Angel looked down at his shirt pocket. “Thanks for the tip,” Angel said, walking away from the demon. 

“Were you able to sleep, Lorne or do you still hear the humming?” Fred asked. 

“Oh, I got some earplugs. Put them in and slept like a baby. Cried and wet the bed all night,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. When no one else joined in, he sobered up, “Tough room.” 

“Mission accomplished,” Gunn said as he walked in, dropped a duffel bag on a chair and unzipped it. “You said you wanted fire power, so . . .” 

Angel joined him and glanced through the new assortment of weapons. “Good work.” 

“Also, we got company out front,” Gunn said. 

“Did they see you?” Angel asked worried. 

“Nah, I saw them, kept on going, doubled back and came in through the sewers,” Gunn assured him. 

“Well, two blacked out cars of what I’m betting is more vampire cult and a biker gang I recognize from back in the day,” Gunn shrugged. 

“Humans?” Angel queried. 

“Yeah, into extortion and kidnapping,” Gunn replied. “There are also some funky fellows in a van I didn’t recognize, wearing hooded cloaks.” 

“Lilliad demons,” Wesley commented as he joined them. “Their fun is making a magical broth from the bones of human children. That’s two ‘L’s in the middle,” he said to Fred as she added the species to the growing list of known enemies on the whiteboard. “They use strong magic. They may be able to break the Furies spell.” 

“What are they waiting for?” Angel asked. 

“Night,” Wesley replied. “Their power is linked directly to the lunar cycle.” 

“So what happens then? The moon rises, this Tro-clan prophecy comes to a head and they go trolling for human children?” Angel asked irritably. 

“And tonight’s a full moon,” Fred added. 

“Well, no matter what kind of weapons we have, we’re not going to be able to fight off the whole world once that force field comes down,” Gunn said. 

“I don’t think we have a choice. If we had Spike with us . . .” Wesley started to say until Angel growled at him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart, Records Room_**

Lilah sat cross-legged on the floor amid papers and file folders. 

“This is impossible. Two hundred and seventy-five years of the most inane . . .” she berated herself as she picked up a sheet of paper and scanned it. “What kind of wussy name is Liam anyway?” She tossed the page away and pressed her fingers against her temples. “You’re at the hotel. The pirate is about to kill Angel. Angel calls him – what? What was it? Hose . . .? Hope . . .?” 

“Holtz?” the girl at the desk asked. 

Lilah turned and looked at the receptionist. “What?” 

“Holtz, Daniel. Vampire killer, circa 1754,” the receptionist said mechanically. “He hunted Angel and Darla halfway around the world until his mysterious disappearance in 1773. Larson McMillian Vampiricus Conquestus, page 412.” 

“How did you . . .?” Lilah started to ask. 

“I’m Files and Records. It’s my job,” the receptionist said blandly. 

Lilah got to her feet, abandoning the papers on the floor and went to the desk. “You mean I’ve been sitting here for the last fourteen hours . . .” 

“Ah-hmm,” the receptionist nodded. 

“To find that you know everything that’s in this case file,” Lilah finished. 

“No, Miss Morgan,” the receptionist replied. 

“Oh,” Lilah said with a sigh of relief. 

“I know everything in every case file. I’m Files and Records, it’s my . . .” 

“Your job,” Lilah cut in as she perched herself on the desk. “Unbelievable. So what’s the skinny on Holtz then? Why the big hate-on for Angel?” 

“Just a moment,” the receptionist said as she sat back. Her eyes flickered with a rattling sound. “1764: Angel and Darla kill Holtz, Caroline; Holtz, Sarah; and Holtz, Daniel, infant son.” 

“Massacred his family, that’ll do it,” Lilah said to herself. 

Another rattling flicker and the woman continued, “Holtz vows to revenge their blood: May, 1764. Pursues Angel and Darla relentlessly for nine years, racking up an incidental body count of three hundred and seventy-eight vampires in the meantime.” 

“So what we’re dealing with is a single-minded vengeance machine with a bloodlust to match. That’s just awesome.” Lilah leaned closer to the girl as if she were sharing a girl-talk session. “Tell me, does Holtz know about Angel’s blonde boy-toy?” 

“Not until last night,” the receptionist said mechanically.


	18. Chapter 42-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 42-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 9)_

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_**

Cordelia opened the front door with her key and walked into her apartment kicking the door shut. Glancing around, she didn’t see anything amiss. She dropped her keys on a small table and headed towards her bedroom as she pulled her shirt over her head. Routinely going to her closet, she dropped her shirt in the laundry basket on the floor of her closet. She kicked her shoes off and pulled her jeans down with her back turned to her bed. 

“Mmm, now _there's_ a sight to make a vampire want to sink his . . . fangs in and stay awhile,” commented a cool, British cockney voice behind her. 

Cordelia jumped and shrieked then spun around and gawked at Spike lying on her bed with his arms folded behind his head on the pillow and his _booted_ feet crossed at the ankles on her grandmother’s antique quilt folded at the bottom of the bed. 

“Spike! Why are you there on the bed? How long have you been here? Why aren’t you . . .” she glanced at the closed curtains, “dust?” Then, she remembered her state of near nakedness and crossed her arms over her semi-sheer bra, thinking they showed more than the matching panties with the satin covering the important parts. “Who knew you couldn’t be in your own house without a fear of peeping tom?” 

“I thought someone like you would be used to having men ogle your . . . assets,” Spike said with a raised brow and a lecherous smirk. “Besides, with your arms crossed like that, it only pushes your tits up more.” 

Cordelia chanced to look down and saw that her crossed arms did indeed push her breasts up and together. “God, Spike! You’re the crudest vampire I ever met!” She grabbed his feet and slung them off the side of the bed. “Get your muddy feet off my grandmother’s antique quilt. Where were you raised, a barn?” 

“I died in one,” Spike replied as he sat up. He leaned over and wiped the dirt onto her clean bedroom floor. 

Cordelia let out at outraged gasp at what he was doing. “Oh my God, I can’t even . . . Spike, that floor was clean!” 

“They’re hardwood floors, who’s going to know?” Spike asked flippantly. 

Still covering her breasts with her arms, Cordelia turned on her heel, stormed out of the room muttering to herself about despicable, bleached brained vampires and that maybe by the time she’s out of the shower, he’ll be gone. 

Spike smirked when he heard the shower part and called out patronizingly, “Do you need any help washing those hard-to-reach places?!” 

“NO!” Cordelia yelled back and slammed the bathroom door. 

Spike chuckled when he heard the shower spray and the curtain rings slide over the pole. He went into the bathroom and immediately his mischievous smile turned into a scowl when he saw that the shower curtain wasn’t see-through. Shrugging off the loss of a great view, he sat on the clothes hamper in the corner and waited for the mirror to fog up before he started drawing on the condensation that formed. 

Twenty minutes later, Spike was in the living room with the curtains closed. Cordelia had put them up way back when he and Angel stayed that summer after Angel’s apartment was bombed. He was flipping through the channels when he heard another shriek echo from the bathroom and started laughing to himself. 

Cordelia stared incredulously at her fogged up mirror. Spike had snuck in when she was busy in the shower and decided to finger paint with the condensation. There was an outlined image of a full-bodied female about the same height as her mirror. She was sporting medium sized breasts with the nipples visible, but she was sitting on her heels so there was only the outline of her thighs pressed together, and – lest she forget – a big arrow pointing to the figure’s breasts with a caption that read: ‘Nice Tits! — Spike’. 

Cordelia quickly dried off and rushed to wipe the crude image off her mirror. Spike was going to be a pile of dust for this. First, she felt sorry for him because he and Angel were separated. But now, she was going to dust him with the next available piece of wood she got her hands on. She went into her bedroom and changed into clean clothes before storming out to the living room with her hands on her hips. 

“Why did you do that?” she demanded, trying to look as stern as she possibly could. 

“Because I can?” Spike shrugged. 

Cordelia went over and tried to smack him upside the head like she’d seen Angel do a thousand times. However, she wasn’t quick enough and Spike’s hand shot out to grab her wrist to stop her. 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re holed up in my apartment and _not_ in Sunnydale or – heaven forbid – at the hotel?” Cordelia asked as she gently pried herself out of his grasp and sat down beside him. 

“Can’t go back to the hotel, Angel’s there,” Spike said casually. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes at the obvious statement. “Okay. Sixty-eight rooms in the place and you can’t pick one farthest from him?” 

Spike shrugged, “He’s a pig-headed, selfish bastard who needs to straighten out his priorities which, I’m sad to say, doesn’t include me.” He flashed her with his sexiest smile. “So, I need a place to stay when I’m in L.A.” 

“How am I going to explain a horribly dressed Billy Idol wannabe sneaking in and out of my apartment at all hours of the night to my neighbors?” Cordelia asked as her brows furrowed thoughtfully. 

“Just tell them I’m your sex toy and come over to rev up your engine after a late shift,” Spike smirked. 

“Oh my God, Spike . . . that’s disgusting!” Cordelia cried, smacking him with a pillow. 

“Fine! Fine!” he said, holding her pillow at bay. “Tell them I’m your estranged cousin who has an aversion to the sun.” 

“Okay, but you’re sleeping on the couch and **_no_** shoes on the cushions,” she admonished. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in an L.A. Cemetery, Night_**

Holtz watched from the shadows beneath a tree as Justine fought a vampire. The vampire kicked her in Holtz’s direction and he caught her before she fell. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded never taking her eyes off her opponent. 

“Watching you fight,” Holtz commented. 

He pushed her away from him and she resumed her fight. She raised a stake for the kill, but the vampire knocked it out of her hand and then kicked her to the ground. The vampire pounced on Justine and was about to sink his teeth into her neck when it immediately dissolved into a cloud of dust revealing Holtz, holding a stake. 

At the opposite side of the cemetery Spike was strolling along patrolling around Cordelia’s block. She had gone back to the Hyperion after they’d talked about his sleeping arrangements. Just then, he spotted a man in an oversize trench coat offer someone up off the ground – a girl it looked like. Spike stopped and concentrated on the pair. He saw the man dust the vampire that was attacking the girl, but his hair was too shaggy to be Angel’s poufy style. From his great ability of deduction, the man had to be Holtz. But who was the girl and what would Holtz want with her? 

“Why did you wait so long?” Justine asked as she brushed herself off. 

“I wanted to see if you could win,” Holtz replied. 

“Always,” Justine stated with a self-satisfied smirk. “I would have kicked his ass if you hadn’t distracted me.” 

Holtz hummed thoughtfully, giving her a measuring glance. “I wasn’t your problem.” 

“Really?” Justine challenged. 

“You fight well, but you lack strategy. Your passion works against you,” he criticized. 

“And you’re here to teach me about passion?” she scoffed. 

Holtz shook his head. “I’m here to teach you how to fight.” 

“What’s in it for you?” she asked, eying him skeptically. 

“You help me kill a vampire,” Holtz said simply. 

“You don’t need me for that,” Justine said as she turned and walked away from him. 

“But I do,” Holtz countered, following her, “This vampire is strong.” 

“What are we talking about? Some kind of **_Karate Kid_** Mr. Miyagi groove thing?” she asked over her shoulder. 

“You’ll find that your references to modern popular culture tend to be lost on me,” he confessed. 

“What a shocker,” she said flippantly. 

Holtz grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her around to face him. “But I know you’re interested in more than the trivial. Your life has been ruined. You can’t sleep. Instead you wander the streets, making others pay for what happened to your sister. That’s where I can help. I see your talent. And I see your hate. And I know that I can shape and hone you into an instrument of vengeance,” Holtz said confidently. 

Justine smirked. “Sounds like fun.” 

“I can assure you: it won’t be,” Holtz said then turned and walked away. Justine took a moment to think about his offer before following him, sparing a glance over her shoulder. 

Spike saw her look in his direction and slunk back into the shadows before she noticed him. He didn’t catch the entire conversation between Holtz and the girl. He was too far away. But, he caught enough of the highlights in the discussion. Holtz had recruited her to help him kill Angel. 

Spike finished his patrol near Cordelia’s apartment lost in thought, deciding what to do. Sure, he was upset with his Sire, but he didn’t want Angel dead. And even if he did, he could do it himself. He didn’t need a vampire hunter from the Dark Ages to do it for him. Maybe he could intervene with Holtz’s plans – once he figured out how he was going to do that without attracting attention. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Taking a cue from Lorne’s tip earlier about the closet, Angel stepped into one and shifted to his demon to read the message the Pylean demon had slipped into his shirt pocket. 

>   
>  _I investigated that buzzing sound I heard earlier. I’m surprised you, being a vampire with heightened senses, didn’t detect them yourself. You must have been distracted with Spike. But, I digress! Anyway, I checked out the hotel and the humble abode has bugs. There are microphone cameras transmitting from here. And there’s only one place I could think where it could be going . . ._   
> 

“Damn it,” Angel cursed. He destroyed the paper and stepped out of the closet, tossing the scraps into a trash can as he passed. 

Glancing out of the windows in the front entrance doors, he saw figures dressed in hooded cloaks chanting. 

Gunn, who stood by watching the whole fiasco unfold outside the hotel, turned and walked down the steps to the lobby. “Guys, those Lilliad demons are starting their mojo on the force field.” Grabbing a bigger weapon, he resumed his post at the window while Wesley and Fred picked up crossbows. 

Still looking out the window, Gunn scoffed, “Ah, right, sun’s down. That means the vamps can come out, too. Oh, wait. They’re headed towards the bikers.” 

“What are they up to?” Cordelia asked as she stepped closer with weapon in hand. 

Gunn retreated down the stairs to join the others in an alliance. “They’re, ah, having a brawl over who gets to kill us first.” 

“We have to hold our ground,” Wesley said in his best **_Braveheart_** impersonation. 

“What if we can’t?” Cordelia asked. 

Wesley nodded. “If we’re forced to fall back we’ll do so towards the cellar. We can make a retreat through the sewer.” He exchanged his crossbow for a flame thrower. 

Angel stood back and weighed the odds. “This isn’t going to work.” 

Wesley examined his weapon with a critical eye. “I checked it. It’s primed and ready.” 

“Not the weapon, the plan,” Angel commented. 

Lorne glanced heavenward with a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad somebody finally said that, because sitting here waiting to die never was much of a plan. Sorry. So, what kind of genius idea have you got hidden up that well-tailored sleeve of yours, huh?” 

“We’re going, all of us,” Angel stated. 

“What?” Cordelia asked surprised. 

“What happened to ‘We’re in a war’?” Wesley asked. 

“And now we’re in a retreat,” Angel said as he grabbed the bag of weapons Gunn had brought earlier and went over to the cabinet to get more. 

“What happened to taking them out?” Wesley asked confused about the new direction the plan was taking. 

“Look out there, Wes. There’s too many of them. We can get out through the sewers. With any luck, we’ll get a couple of miles away before they barge in here and find us gone,” Angel explained. 

“I like the retreating part. I’m good with the running away,” Fred said as she looked at the others uncertainly. 

“What are we waiting for, a starter pistol?” Lorne asked, already inching towards escape. 

They all grabbed what they could carry in weaponry and rushed towards the basement and the sewers beyond. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Gavin and Linwood watched the big screen TV transmitting the scene from the hotel as Angel and his team escaped into the cellar. 

“He’s running away,” Gavin observed as if he were watching mice in a maze. 

“He’s _sneaking_ away,” Linwood clarified, “and giving us the chance to get the jump on everyone.” 

Gavin punched the button on his handheld two-way radio. “Alpha team he’s heading into the sewers.” 

“Copy that,” a static voice replied. 

Linwood continued to watch Angel’s retreat on the screen as he said thoughtfully, “Today the world is different. Souled vampires running away from a fight . . . tell me, have we found this Daniel Boone character yet?” 

“No sir,” Gavin said then hurried to assure his boss, “We’re still searching for his whereabouts.” 

Lilah scoffed at Gavin’s rushed reply. “We have the utmost confidence that we’ll find him, sir.” 

“And Angel’s new companion? What do we have on him?” Linwood asked in general. 

Lilah flashed a self-satisfied smirk at Gavin. It seemed he had no clue about the blonde vampire that had been frequently seen around the hotel from time to time. It meant that she had one up on her colleague. That meant she got to keep Lindsey’s office as her own for another six months and possibly another raise in her paycheck. 

“Um, his name is William the Bloody, but he goes by Spike now. His siring is unclear, but he’s been a companion of Angelus since 1873. They have been at odds until the last few years when Spike found the Ring of Amarra. Angel destroyed it. Spike has been traveling back and forth between L.A. and Sunnydale ever since. He hasn’t been seen around the hotel in last few weeks,” Lilah reported. 

“Does he have a soul as well?” Linwood asked. 

“No sir, he’s evil, but he’s of no consequence to our plans for Angel,” Lilah informed him. 

“Hmm, maybe we could use him when and if we need him,” Linwood suggested casually. 

Lilah didn’t think that Spike would be of any use, but to her boss she smiled, “Yes sir.” 

Linwood turned to look at her, giving her a slight smile, “Good work, Lilah.” 

Gavin grimaced at the praise of his co-worker. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles Sewers_**

Angel and the team rushed through the sewers as a Hum-Vee drove down the street directly above them. 

“Alpha team, where are you? Over,” Lilah’s static voice demanded over the two-way radio. 

“We’re here,” the driver replied. 

Beneath the street Angel climbed up a ladder and pushed aside the metal lid covering the manhole. He climbed up to street beside his parked car and helped the others out of the sewer. After scanning the area with a quick glance, they got into the car. A tactical team member from Wolfram  & Hart watched them through night-vision binoculars from a Hum-vee across the street. 

“Got him and he has a party with him,” he reported over the two-way radio. He lowered the binoculars and started the car. Pulling into traffic, he followed Angel’s car. 

Back at the Hyperion, two demons and men broke free of the fight outside the front doors and just walked inside. The demons removed their hoods and searched the lobby. 

“Where are they?” the leader demanded. 

“They seem to have vanished,” one of the men said. 

Outside the mosh pit-type brawl was still in progress when a vampire looked up from his own fight to see Angel’s car drive by. The vampire knocked down his opponent as a wagon train of Hum-vees followed Angel’s car in pursuit. Knocking down another opponent, the vampire ran inside the hotel. 

“Master, it’s a trick!” the vampire said just as one of the demons inside found a gift-wrapped box near the door. The Lilliad demon picked it up and started to open it just as it exploded in his hands. The bomb was large enough to kill the demon holding the package and the two others standing next to him, including the vampire that ran in to warn them. 

The two men left standing ran outside and joined the remaining fighters as they all hurried to their vehicles to pursue Angel and the Hum-vees. 

**************************

“I don’t think the little surprise I left behind stalled them long,” Gunn said as he watched the train of hum-vees and additional cars follow them. 

“I can’t believe I came back to the hotel to help with research only to be in a car chase,” Cordelia added. “I just hope that if the traffic helicopter sees this and it ends up on the news, that they get footage from my good side.” 

“Angel, can’t you go any faster. They’re gaining on us!” Fred spoke up from her seat between Angel and Wesley. 

Wesley sat in the passenger seat and held onto the door for dear life as Angel fishtailed the car around a corner with the Hum-vees, bikers, cars of the vampire cult from the hospital and the van of Lilliad demons in hot pursuit. 

Another Hum-vee pulled out of an alley to cut him off and Angel wrenched the car aside to turn into another street. He drove through a tunnel, down a highway and past a sign reading LANCASTER 16 / MOJAVE DESERT 42. 

Angel glanced at his pursuers’ progress from the side mirror. “How are we doing back there?” 

“Still got a trail behind us,” Cordelia replied as she watched the headlights of the posse’s vehicles. 

Just then, the lead car rammed into the back of the car, jolting Cordelia nearly off the back seat and onto the floor of the car. She picked herself up just as the lead car rammed into them again, jarring her into the back of Angel’s seat. Angel sped up as he drove by a ‘Danger Abandoned Mine No Trespassing’ sign. 

“Cordy, just stay down and cover your head,” Angel suggested as he turned the car and drove a latched wooden gate. 

“He’s breaking left,” the driver of the lead Hum-vee alerted his team. 

Angel drove past an abandoned shake and through the boards that closed off the entrance of the mine. Outside the other vehicles pulled up in front of the mine entrance. Everyone held on for dear life as Angel descended into the main shaft. 

Outside everyone piled out of the vehicles and moved closer to the shaft. Inside, Angel met up with a boarded up tunnel entrance. As the first wave of pursuers descended into the pit of the main shaft, Angel tossed something into the shaft. Then, the tires squealed in protest as he backed up at full speed, causing his pursuers to run for safety or get run over. His car hit the Hum-vee blocking the entrance, jolting his passengers. Angel turned the wheel and squealed the tires as he sped away. 

The pursuers still left in the shaft tried to get their bearings before going after Angel. A second later, a huge explosion reverberated in the cavernous mine and a fireball rolled out of the mineshaft. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_**

Cordelia walked into her apartment and tossed her keys on an end table in the walkway. Grabbing her mail off the table she sifted through it on the way to the kitchen, pitching the junk mail in the trash. She set the bills aside and made herself a cup of hot tea. 

“How was your night, dear?” Spike mocked as she walked into the living room. 

“You know the usual: being held hostage in the hotel by a mass of bikers, demons and vampires intent on starting an apocalypse,” she said as she sat down and curled her feet under her. “Oh, and the car chase into an abandoned mine, with said demons and Wolfram  & Hart’s goons chasing us was just loads of fun. Especially when we barely escaped just before Angel blew up the mine.” 

“Sounds more exciting than my night,” Spike commented. 

“Why, what did you do?” she asked incredulously expecting to get some flippant remark about rearranging her underwear drawer. On second thought . . . “You didn’t go through my things did you?” 

Spike looked at her with wide innocent eyes. “Moi? I would _never_ disrespect you by going through your unmentionables.” When she just stared at him, he nodded in affirmation. “Okay, well, I would. But I didn’t! I stayed in like a good vampire and . . .” He shook his head when she didn’t say anything and her expression turned to one of disbelief. “Didn’t really do that either. I prowled the neighborhood for a couple of hours.” 

“I live in a quiet unassuming neighborhood. Nothing goes on here,” Cordelia said. 

“Yeah, one would think so,” Spike said cryptically. There was no point in telling her what he witnessed in the cemetery yet. All he knew was that Holtz was meeting some girl. There was no use getting her worried over a trivial matter until he figured out what exactly Holtz was up to. To her he added, “But then, Sunnydale’s an unassuming town and it’s on a Hellmouth.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Linwood stood in the conference room with Gavin and Lilah flanking him as he reviewed the encounter between Lorne and Angel that morning. The firm had gotten word about the mine explosion from the surviving members of the tactical team moments after it occurred. 

_Lorne draped an arm over Angel’s shoulder as he leaned closer, chuckling, “I can never see her in anything other than pristine and pressed clothes. She’s not the type to shop at the Gap, y’know. Looks like you could have dug through your own closet . . .”_

“Back it up,” Linwood said. 

Lilah rewound the video and played it again. 

_Lorne draped an arm over Angel’s shoulder as he leaned closer, chuckling, “I can never see her in anything other than pristine and pressed clothes.”_

“Stop it right there!” Linwood said. The scene paused. “Magnify one hundred times.” The picture zoomed in. “Again.” The whole screen now showed Lorne’s hand slipping a nearly-concealed piece of paper into the breast pocket of Angel’s shirt. “Right there,” Linwood pointed out. “That is when he gives Angel the note.” 

_“Looks like you could have dug through your own closet for a clean shirt,” Lorne was saying on the screen._

_Angel looked down at his shirt pocket. “Thanks for the tip,” Angel said, walking away from the demon._

“And tells him where to read it,” Linwood commented disapprovingly. “The closet, where we don’t have surveillance.” 

“The green houseguest could hear the hum of your transmit frequency. What are the odds?” Lilah sneered at Gavin. 

Linwood waved away the bickering. “Either way it worked – for us. Angel’s little escape thinned the herd. Now, what about that Daniel Boone character?” 

“No reports yet that he was among Angel’s pursuers,” Gavin said. 

“I was hoping he’d be among the casualties. What do we know about him?” Linwood said distractedly. 

Lilah opened a folder and narrated, “His name is actually Daniel Holtz. He is a vampire hunter. Angel killed his family and he spent the rest of his life seeking revenge. Oh, and one more thing . . . this all happened two hundred years ago.” 

“I thought Holtz was human,” Linwood said thoughtfully. 

“He is,” Lilah assured him. 

“A time traveler,” Linwood pondered. 

“His arrival was foretold in the Nyazian Scrolls. He is a player,” Gavin added. 

“Yeah, he’s a cog in the machine, and aren’t we all? What do you suppose it is that he wants?” Linwood asked his companions. 

“We need more information. How he got here, who he works with, where he lives,” Linwood said as he paced in front of Lilah and Gavin. “It’s only a matter of time before our needs and his come into conflict. Maybe sooner than we think.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel slouched in his wingback chair in the sitting room of his suite with his sketchpad balanced on his lap. He wasn’t intent on drawing anything, but his subconscious had taken the initiative and drew the outline of a person’s bust. 

Nothing was said when they came back from the destroyed mine, or if there was, he wasn’t paying attention. He remembered driving back to the hotel and immediately going into the lobby to put his weapons away. Then he went up to Fred’s room to search for and break the connection on the CCTV camera that Wolfram  & Hart had broken in to install before going to his own room and doing the same. 

He didn’t care that the rest of the hotel was being watched by them, but the bedrooms were off limits. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t concerned about Wolfram & Hart spying on his team. It was just that Angel had other things on his mind than Lilah spying on him to get her rocks off. 

The outline on the page was steadily turning into a drawing of a male with angular features, sharp cheekbones, slicked back hair and clear eyes. 

When Cordelia came back to the hotel earlier, she smelled distinctly like Spike; as if she were in intimate quarters with his boy recently. Angel sighed. Was Spike still his boy? Or had he moved on to Cordelia? 

Angel’s pencil strokes took on angry motions the more he thought about Spike with someone else. They were connected, mated. He could still feel the link itching beneath his skin. Why didn’t Spike go back to Sunnydale? Then again, why was he with Cordelia instead of staying in the hotel if he was going to be in L.A.? Did Spike hate him that much? 

Angel finished the sketch he was working on and looked at it with a critical eye. The shaded, detailed bust drawing of Spike stared back at him. The picture took up the entire height and width of the eleven-and-a-half by nine-inch sketch pad. He put the pencil down and ran his fingertips over the drawn angles of Spike’s face. 

_What am I going to do about my relationship with Spike?_ All he wanted to do was protect Spike from Holtz. Maybe if he could hide the deep connection between them from Holtz, so the hunter couldn’t use Spike against him. Maybe then Spike would be safe. A painful ache throbbed in chest as he stared at the drawing. He missed his boy.


	19. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Interlude 2_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, December 20th_**

It had been two weeks since Spike had invited himself to live with Cordelia. Two weeks in which Angel started walking up behind Cordelia to scent her hair or clothes whenever she came in to work. Lately, the thick scent of Spike surrounded her like a cloud. It sparked Angel’s imagination as to where Spike might be sleeping, but he didn’t dare ask Cordelia. And he hadn’t seen Spike since the younger vampire left him in the alley. 

“Is leaving your dirty towels on the bathroom floor an evil vampire thing or is that just something special to Spike?” Cordelia asked as she walked around behind the reception desk. 

_Spike was naked at Cordy’s house?_ Angel’s brows furrowed in thought. He immediately stepped up behind her and sniffed her hair. The same strong odor of his boy infused the air around her. _Was she sharing the shower with Spike? Or, worse yet, sharing . . ._ Angel sniffed Cordelia’s neck and sweater. 

“Angel, we’ve talked about the personal space!” Cordelia said as she jerked away from him. 

“You’re covered in his scent,” Angel stated as he tried to move closer. 

She backtracked further away. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you share an apartment with an evil bloodsucking reject from the ’80s.” 

Just then, Gunn, Wesley and someone else obscured by branches hauled a huge, pre-decorated Christmas Pine in the front doors that was nearly as tall as the lobby ceiling. Cordelia and Fred’s faces lit up with thousand-watt smiles when they saw what the boys were setting up. 

“It’s about time we celebrated Christmas, vampires have such aversions to the holidays,” Cordelia commented. 

“Just Halloween,” Angel corrected. “We don’t have a problem with Yuletide.” 

“Yuletide? Boy, you are from the Old World aren’t you?” Cordelia scoffed as she and Fred moved closer to the Christmas tree. 

“Never let it be said we gave up on Christmas. Remember one year, Drusilla and I ate a mall Santa. Dru wanted to know what Father Christmas tasted like. Figured he’d taste like winter and snow or something,” Spike’s voice was muffled behind the pine branches. 

If Angel’s heart could beat, it would be pounding right now. The sound of his boy’s voice ringing in the lobby sent his blood racing. He gawked at Spike when the blonde came out from behind the tree, still holding on to it while Wesley and Gunn anchored it to the corner walls. Spike sported a headband with a wire hook and mistletoe at the end that hung over his head. 

“Oh Spike, that’s adorable!” Fred squealed as she ran over to him and touched the decoration. 

Spike raised a scarred brow at being referred to as ‘adorable’. As was tradition with mistletoe, Fred leaned closer and pecked Spike on the lips. Angel’s brows drew closer together in agitation if that were possible. He went over and snatched Spike away from Fred. 

“Oi, pillock, watch the leather!” Spike cried. 

“What are you doing?” Angel hissed angrily. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks, yet Cordy reeks of you and you come in with that?” He gestured at the mistletoe hanging over Spike’s head. “What are you trying to do? What the hell possessed you to move in with Cordy?” 

Spike sneered at him. “If I didn’t know you so well, peaches, I’d say you were jealous.” 

Angel scowled. “I’m not jealous. What do I have to be jealous of when you’re throwing yourself out to just anyone?” 

“Fred and Cordy isn’t _just anyone_. Did something happen in the last two weeks to make you lose your common sense?” Spike asked. 

“What’s your game, Spike?” Angel demanded. 

“Game? The game is it’s Christmas and I brought you a tree. Why does there have to be an ulterior motive?” 

“There has to be something. You’re doing this to play with me,” Angel declared. 

“I’m not the one who pushed his mate away. I just stayed away, you ungrateful bastard. I thought bringing you a tree would be a peace offering. I’ll never do another bloody thing like this again. You have my word on that. You don’t want any part of the vampire you’re mated to, Angel? That’s fine. After Cordy’s birthday next month, I’m gone.” 

“How do you know when Cordy’s birthday is?” Angel’s brows furrowed. He barely remembered her birthday and yet Spike knew. 

“Duh, ponce, I asked her when it was in case I feel like gift-giving,” Spike hissed angrily. 

“I can just imagine what you’d give her,” Angel challenged. 

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Spike asked irritably. 

“Remember that time you gave Dru that lower intestine for a belt?” Angel raised a brow. 

“It had a buckle!” Spike said defensively. 

“You had it bronzed!” Angel said. 

“Well yeah, otherwise her dress would get all bloody,” Spike pouted. “’S still better than your gifts, like the time you let Darla give you a Gypsy girl and you ended up with a soul. Or the time you had sex with Buffy, turned evil and killed Willow’s goldfish and then killed her Watcher’s girl.” 

“I was evil then!” Angel said defensively. 

“Newsflash: I’m evil! The only thing keeping me from killing is that bloody Sire-Claim you have on me and the fact that I’m not a maniacal heartless bastard.” 

“No, it just turned you into a pain in the ass that’s living off Cordy’s good will,” Angel shot back. 

“I carry my own thank you! And I help Cordy out. I patrol her neighborhood every night and play poker with Denis. Who, I might add, is cheating!” Spike said indignantly. 

“Well, being a ghost does have its advantages,” Cordelia chimed in as she rearranged a few branches on the tree. 

“How come I always get kicked out of the bathroom during your shower and he doesn’t?” Spike asked flippantly. 

“Because he’s useful and you just stand there and draw rude pictures on the mirror when it fogs up,” Cordelia replied, oblivious to Angel’s angry expression. 

“How do you know he’s not ogling you?” Spike asked. 

“Because Denis is a gentleman unlike some people,” Cordelia replied casually. 

“I – You – She—” Angel tripped over his tongue as he looked between Spike and Cordelia. “You saw her naked in the shower!?” he roared. “What the hell, Spike? What else have you been doing while you’re over there? Are you sleeping with her too!?” 

“What?” was screeched in a female voice. 

“What?” was snarled in a British accent. 

“Spike and I have **_never_ ** slept together. He sleeps on the couch,” Cordelia explained. 

“But, you said he--” Angel started to say. 

“He only comes into the bathroom to keep me company and to draw crude pictures on the mirror to annoy me,” Cordelia cut in. 

“You are a right ponce, you know that? Me and Cordy? I haven’t slept with her. Not that she isn’t worthy of a good tumble. I’ve only been in her bedroom once,” Spike said. 

“Spike!” Angel growled as he clenched his fists at his sides. 

“It’s really getting to you that other people might find me attractive, isn’t it?” Spike asked with a smirk. “If I knew I was this irresistible, I should have left you a year ago.” 

“You have a high opinion of yourself if you think that,” Angel said annoyed. 

“What’s a bloke supposed to think? I come with a peace offering and you think I’m sleeping around after you turned me out,” Spike said casually. 

“I didn’t turn you out. I told you to go back to Sunnydale where you’d be out of my way. I did **_not_ ** tell you to move in with my secretary,” Angel snapped. Glaring at his mate, he reached up and knocked the mistletoe headband off Spike’s head. “And take that off, it looks ridiculous.” 

Spike’s eyes shifted to their demon-yellow color just before he punched Angel in the face, sending the bigger vampire flying across the lobby. Wesley, Fred, Gunn and Cordelia stood by and watched it happen. They knew better than to get in the middle of am all-out brawl between the two vampires. 

Angel picked himself up off the floor and glared at Spike. When he got close enough, Angel returned the favor with a right hook that caused Spike’s head to snap back. Spike rubbed his jaw and took another swing at his Sire. The rest of the group passively watched as the two vampires knocked each other to the floor and started scrambling for the upper hand. First Angel was on top, throwing punches. Then, Spike was on top, punching Angel. 

“Fifty dollars they make up at the end of this,” Gunn said. 

“I’ll take that bet,” Wesley replied. 

“You guys are so immature,” Cordelia scoffed. 

Angel and Spike still had a grip on each other’s throats as they rolled to their feet in a synchronized move. Spike punched Angel in the face again and Angel responded likewise. 

“Tried to do something nice for you and being the selfish git that you are, you accuse me of something I didn’t do,” Spike sneered as he threw another punch. 

“Well, if you weren’t such a prick tease we wouldn’t be in this position,” Angel shot back as he returned the punch. 

“Stop. Hitting. Me.” Spike said, stressing each word with a punch. 

“You. First.” Angel challenged. 

“Now y’all are being ridiculous. Just make up already,” Fred said. 

“That would mean that Angel would have to apologize and you don’t do that, do you?” Spike growled as he jerked back from Angel’s fist. 

“Not when I’m the one that’s right,” Angel replied. 

“You can’t even admit when you’re wrong? Now that’s sad,” Spike said as he returned a punch to the gut. 

“I forgot why they were broken up in the first place,” Gunn whispered to Wesley. 

“We broke up because Angel is a selfish sod who thinks he can live my life better than me,” Spike said as he glared at his Sire. 

“I had to teach you how to be a vampire. Is it my fault you still have _yet_ to grow up and mature,” Angel taunted. 

Spike growled as he grabbed Angel by his shirt and threw him over his shoulder and into the wall behind him, cracking the wall. 

“Another fifty that we still have the hotel in one piece,” Wesley whispered to Gunn. 

“Well, Fred and I are going shopping for gifts,” Cordelia announced. “Let us know what happens when we get back.” 

“We are?” Fred asked surprised when Cordelia dragged her out the door. 

“The way Cordy shops, she’ll be buying gifts for herself and Fred with earmarks on who should be giving the gifts,” Gunn said when the girls left. 

Back on the other side of the lobby, Angel grabbed Spike by the lapels of his duster and slammed him into the wall of the stairway leading up to the first floor of rooms. 

“I can’t believe you hate me this much,” Angel said. 

“I don’t hate you. I just know you to be a bloody selfish, self-centered bastard,” Spike replied. 

“I’m trying to protect you, you ungrateful . . .” Angel said as Spike punched him again. 

“Think we should tell them that they are fighting under mistletoe?” Wesley asked Gunn. 

“Isn’t fighting considered foreplay to vampires?” Gunn asked. 

“Uh, Angel?” 

“Not now, Wes,” Angel choked as he tried to grab Spike’s wrist. 

“Angel!” 

“Later, Gunn,” Spike said as he and his Sire were at a standoff waiting to see who would make the next move. 

“Do you guys realize where you are?” Gunn asked. 

“Look up!” Wesley said louder. 

There were twin growls before Spike and Angel looked up and saw that someone had hung mistletoe in the stairway. Cordelia and Fred had decorated the lobby the week before. All they were missing was the tree that Cordelia had conned Spike into buying as a peace offering. He should have known that wouldn’t have worked given their current situation. 

“This is a joke,” Angel said as he glanced over at the opposite staircase that led up to the first floor of rooms and saw another mistletoe hanging above it. 

“Well? Are you going to just stand there or follow through with tradition?” Spike dared his Sire. 

“After all that and what we went through you want me to . . .” Angel started to say. 

“It’s just a bloody kiss. It’s not like we’re going to shag right here,” Spike said annoyed. 

Angel met Spike’s eyes and then his gaze shifted to watch Spike’s tongue slip out to run over his bottom lip in preparation for what was to come. Two weeks of thinking about Spike, wishing his boy was back with him and here he was, willing to call a truce in their feud for a kiss. 

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever known,” Spike growled. 

He grabbed Angel by the shirt and hauled him closer into a kiss. Wesley and Gunn held their breaths as they watched the scene. Angel was as stiff as a board as Spike’s lips first touched his. When Spike teased his lower lip, his eyes slid closed and he moaned as the blonde slipped his tongue into his mouth. Wesley and Gunn released their collective breaths when Angel’s arms went around Spike, hugging him closer, deepening the kiss. 

The two humans rolled their eyes and left the room when Angel walked Spike backwards towards the sofa and collapsed on it with him. Spike wrapped his arms around Angel’s neck as his body slid along the cushions to make room for Angel’s knee as it slipped between his legs and nudged against his sacs. The knee jerked up a little, jostling Spike’s hardened cock, causing him to groan. 

Spike struggled internally over whether to hang on to Angel’s shoulders or reach between them to gain some relief. Angel’s thigh kept teasing his balls, fanning the fires of his arousal. Spike reached down between them and rubbed his mate’s jean-clad sacs, using his hand as a barrier against the near-painful friction. 

“Spike,” Angel moaned, attacking Spike’s mouth with renewed passion. He thrust his tongue into Spike’s mouth, groaning at the taste of his boy after he’d been deprived for so long. 

Spike’s eyes squeezed shut at the ragged sound of his name. He opened Angel’s jeans and circled his fingers around Angel’s erection. A thrill ran down his spine at Angel’s growl. Spike stroked him with one hand and used the other hand to hold Angel’s thigh still so that he could grind against it. 

Angel laced his fingers in Spike’s hair, tugging the blonde head back as he moved lower to attack Spike’s neck with open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips with blunt teeth. He hoped that his actions showed how much he missed his boy, because he didn’t think he had the words right now to express it. Not when Spike was writhing under him, responding to his touch as if he missed him just as much. Not when Spike’s hands were on him, hot with the friction of stroking him. It felt so good that his eyes burned with unshed tears. 

Time seemed to have stopped for them. The lobby dropped away. He couldn’t hear Wesley and Gunn anymore or if the girls had made it back yet. All that he knew was that Spike was with him, under him, responding to him completely. This truce was one hell of a Christmas present. More precious to him than the tree, because it meant Spike was here and they weren’t fighting . . . for the time being. 

Spike maneuvered their positions with dexterity while maintaining his hold on Angel’s cock. Straddling his Sire’s hips, he stroked him faster. Angel worked quickly to remove Spike’s duster and clutched at the ever-present black t-shirt underneath, stretching the material when his boy’s ministrations caused his hips to jerk up. He yanked Spike’s shirt up out of the way and clutched Spike’s hips in a possessive grip. 

“Fuck, Spike, jeans off,” Angel panted haltingly when he finally regained his voice. 

Spike sat up enough to unfasten his jeans and Angel’s hands were there to pull them down. When his cock was finally released from its confines, Angel roughly jerked him down to him by a fistful of t-shirt and bucked against Spike, rubbing their cocks together. Spike let out a keening moan at witnessing the dominant side of his Sire. Then, he felt Angel’s hand let go of the shirt to slip inside of the back of his jeans and a couple of fingers gently work their way inside him. 

“Angel,” Spike breathed. 

“Missed you baby boy,” Angel mumbled as he sucked at the base of Spike’s neck. “Just trying to protect you . . .” 

“From what?” Spike’s senses were full of his Sire, his scent and touch; he was surprised he was coherent enough to ask that. 

“Holtz,” Angel said as he moved his fingers in and out of Spike faster as they bucked and gyrated against each other. 

“Why?” Spike panted, growling when he added, “You know bloody well I can take care of myself.” 

“Can’t let him take you away from me,” Angel responded as he continued to work both of them towards a release. “Missed you, want to be with you, but I have to let you go for now. Have to keep you safe.” 

“Told you I’d leave after Cordy’s birthday,” Spike said as he shifted to mouth Angel’s neck and work himself on Angel’s fingers. “You got me for Christmas . . . until our next fight.” 

“You for Christmas,” Angel moaned as he shifted their bodies so that Spike’s back was against the couch. 

He doubled his efforts until Spike squeezed his cock, and threw his head back as strings of semen covered Angel’s hand. Spike stroked faster until Angel came and raised his hand to lick his Sire’s spending off his hand. He watched Angel mirror his action and then they claimed each other’s mouths in an urgent, passionate kiss, built from the mounting arousal and months of being apart. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Christmas Night_**

The last few days had been like a dream to Angel. Since that fight the day Spike brought the Christmas tree to him they had been sneaking kisses whenever they found themselves alone, whether they were in the hotel or on a case. They had found other things to do by the time Cordelia and Fred got back from their Christmas shopping. As far as he knew Gunn and Wesley hadn’t mentioned the make-out session to the girls. Spike still went home with Cordelia even though Angel had asked him to stay on several occasions. According to his mate, he didn’t want to jinx the truce by staying and have it fall apart. 

Cordelia had mentioned that Spike went on a few shopping trips of his own, but didn’t know what he bought. That was fine with Angel, because he went on his own little shopping excursion. He was almost as giddy as Fred over the holiday season. She was more into the festivities whereas Angel was anxious to see how his gift would be received. 

A long, scuffed dining table and chairs had taken the place of the round settee in the center of the lobby. The settee had been moved to another place in the hotel until later. Cordelia had planned a sit-down dinner to celebrate the holiday. The two couches were situated around the tree for the gifts to be opened later. 

And, lest he forget, Spike would be here! Angel had been congenially whistling all day. It was starting to scare Wesley and Gunn who were of the mind that he had become too happy. He and Spike hadn’t argued . . . much . . . in the last few days either. When he saw Spike walk in the doors each night it took every ounce of willpower _not_ to jump over the reception desk, tackle his boy to the ground and maul him on the lobby floor. 

Cordelia and Fred had hijacked the kitchen and had barricaded themselves in there for the past three days cooking a dinner that was a mix of American and Old World cuisine. He checked on them once and was promptly evicted as not to ruin the surprise dinner. Angel hoped Cordelia cooked better than she made coffee. 

“Someone want to help carry this stuff in?” Spike asked when he walked in the door with an armload of presents. 

“Here let me get that,” Angel said, sprinting over to take the wrapped package off the top of the pile and out of Spike’s line of vision. “You didn’t have to buy all this, you know?” 

“It’s Christmas, peaches. Everyone gets presents on Christmas,” Spike scoffed. 

“I hate to think how you paid for all this,” Angel muttered to himself as he set the packages under the tree. 

“Don’t worry, your money’s safe. I dipped into my own funds for this,” Spike assured him. 

“Still, you didn’t have to--” 

“Put a sock in it, ponce. Where is everyone?” 

“Cordy and Fred are in the kitchen cooking dinner. Gunn and Wesley are out working on a case. They assured me that it was a small job and they’d be back before dinner,” Angel replied. 

Spike looked around and smirked at Angel. “So no one’s around then?” 

Angel noticed the husky timbre Spike’s voice had adopted. He slowly prowled closer to the blonde, watching his lips move. Angel licked his lips as Spike chewed on his bottom lip. He reached out and snagged one of Spike’s belt loops, tugging him closer. 

“Uh huh,” he replied. 

Spike saw the look in Angel’s eyes, wondering if the girls had turned the thermostat up in the hotel. He tried to back away from his Sire only to meet the arm of the couch. The next thing he knew, Angel pounced, knocking him back onto the couch and straddled his waist. Then, his Sire’s lips were fused to his in a searing kiss. He gasped and clawed at the broad shoulders when Angel started grinding against his groin. 

Spike tried to crawl out from under Angel, but the bigger vampire followed him across the cushions. He leaned his head back against the opposite armrest, straining for space. Angel used the opportunity to attack his neck, mouthing his claim mark, teasing it with his tongue. Spike went from trying to shove against his chest to grabbing a fistful of hair. He pulled Angel’s head to the side a little and nuzzled into Angel’s neck, nipping at the skin with blunt teeth. 

“God you guys!” Cordelia whined when she walked out of the kitchen with a dish of food to put on the table and saw the vampires making out on the couch. “Do I have to get a bucket of ice water for you two?” 

Reluctantly, Angel pried himself away from Spike and tugged the other vampire to his feet. They helped carry in the dinnerware and other platters of food before they both disappeared to retrieve their glasses of blood. Gunn and Wesley had arrived in the middle of setting the table. They raised a brow at each other when the vampires disappeared together. 

“I suppose we should start dinner without them?” Wesley suggested. 

A few minutes later, the vampires joined the group at the table. Angel sat in one of the end chairs and kicked the chair closest to him out from under the table, silently indicating where Spike should be. Lorne joined them as the food was passed around the table. There was roast turkey, a vegetable platter, chocolate truffles, stuffing, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, champagne was served with dinner for the humans which Lorne drank, and cranberry sauce. For those who didn’t want the turkey, there was ham, and an apple pie or pumpkin pie for dessert. Spike heaped his plate full of food that he didn’t need to eat and Angel took a few bits here and there for appearance’s sake. 

The team made conversation about Wesley and Gunn’s case and complementing Cordelia and Fred on their hard work putting the dinner together. The vampires answered when spoken to, but only gave one-syllable replies. They were otherwise occupied with each other. Angel watched Spike intensely as he ate, staring at him over the rim of the glass whenever he took a drink or just sat back and admired Spike. His body was on edge the entire time. All he wanted to do was rip the silverware out of Spike’s hands and devour him. 

For his part, Spike seemed unaware of his affect on Angel. He ate calmly, chewing his food twenty times before swallowing, keeping half an ear to the discussion with the others. Every time he glanced up at Angel, the hungry looks the dark vampire gave him made his dick that much harder. His Sire looked like he wanted to throw him on the table and substitute him as the main course. 

Spike stabbed his fork into a piece of the roast turkey, dipped it in blood and offered it to his Sire. Angel never took his eyes off Spike as he leaned closer and ate it off the utensil. Spike gasped at the predatory look in Angel’s eyes as he licked the fork clean before releasing it and stared at him while he slowly chewed on the morsel. 

“Oh my _God_! That’s – a disgusting version of **_9½ Weeks_**!” Cordelia cried as she looked over to see Spike feeding Angel. 

The others looked at the couple to see Spike feed Angel another piece of bloody turkey. 

“I think I lost my appetite,” Gunn said, choking his food down at the sight of blood. 

“Aww, I think it’s romantic,” Fred commented with a smile as she watched the two vampires engrossed in each other. 

“Yes, well, it is a bit unorthodox to use blood as a dipping sauce,” Wesley observed. 

The group watched Angel take a turn at feeding Spike the same way a person slowed down to watch a car wreck. As a distraction, the girls shared their cooking secrets with the guys. Cordelia glanced over occasionally and when it looked like Angel was about to pounce over the table to chase the turkey down Spike’s throat, she decided _now_ would be the best time for a change of scenery. 

“Okay!” she nearly shouted as she stood up. “Who wants to open presents? I know I do!” She headed to the kitchen with her plate and a platter. 

The others followed suit, taking their plates and a platter or dish into the kitchen. It was several minutes before Angel and Spike noticed their surrounding and cleared their places as well. Cordelia and Fred went over to the tree and sat on one of the couches with a slice of pie and their drinks. The men joined them. Angel and Spike sat with Cordelia and Gunn, Wesley and Lorne sat on the longer couch with Fred. 

“Great, just what I need, you two making out beside me while I try to enjoy Christmas,” Cordelia commented when she saw her companions. 

“We _can_ control ourselves Cordy,” Angel said irritably. 

“Not so far you haven’t,” she scoffed as she set her plate down and busied herself with distributing the gifts. 

“So, are we just going around the room opening one present at a time, or youngest to oldest?” Fred asked. 

“Was that a dig at our age?” Angel asked. 

“No, that was a dig at _your_ age,” Spike smirked. 

“Thank you, Fredikins. We’ll be here all night while they argue over that,” Lorne said, drinking his champagne. 

“If they’re going to do that, then I liked them better when they were making out over dinner. No arguments then,” Gunn replied. 

“Shut up and open your present from Spike,” Cordelia said, tossing a wrapped package to him. 

“Whoa,” Gunn exclaimed, catching it. “You got me something?” 

Spike shrugged, “Not much really. Just something I thought you might like.” 

Gunn shredded the wrapping paper and held it upright. It was two long wooden spears with brackets to mount to his truck. 

“Hey, thanks!” Gunn smiled as he admired the craftsmanship. 

“Wesley, this is yours from Spike.” Cordelia passed the heavy object to the former watcher. 

Wesley looked surprised that the vampire had gotten him anything. Angel thought he looked ready to tear up like he used to do when he was easily overwhelmed. Wesley opened the package reverently and stared at three antique volumes of Leonardo Vairo’s books of Charms, Spells and Sorceries. They were books in which all the species and causes of spells were described and explained with the philosophers and theologians. It contained ways to fight the illusions of demons and refutation of the causes behind the power of witchcraft. The books were dated 1589. 

“Oh Lord, Spike. This is really . . . you shouldn’t have,” Wesley said in awe as he paged through one of the books. 

“Fred,” Cordelia handed over her present. 

Fred opened hers and squealed. One was a book on problematic theorems and practical hypotheses of physics in the world today. The other book was a compilation classic authors and great literature. 

Lorne got a martini mixer set. Cordelia got a new comforter for her bed and a flannel robe in case she decided to streak in front of Spike again. He chuckled when she opened that which earned him strange looks from the crew. 

“Guess that leaves me,” Angel commented as Cordelia slid the heaviest package across the floor to him. 

“It’s hard to find the perfect gift for the two hundred and forty-eight-year-old Sire who has everything.” 

Angel gave him a skeptical look as he opened the package to reveal a shipping box. He looked at the address label. “Rome? You had it shipped from Rome? Which means – you were planning this gift even before we had that fight a few weeks ago. How did you know we’d call a truce?” 

“Didn’t, did I? Figured after I imported those rugs for the mansion, when I saw this . . . it was just your thing.” 

“Just open it, man,” Gunn urged anxious to see what it was. 

Curiosity peaked; Angel carefully opened the box as if expecting a demon to jump out at him. Pushing the lid off completely, his breath caught at discovering what was inside. The others waited with baited breath to see what it was. Angel reverently caressed the blade before he grabbed the hilt and held up a thirty-one inch Roman Empire Sword with a twenty-five inch double-edged blade. The handle was made of antique bronze and hardwood grips. It weighed a good seven pounds and came with a custom-made black leather scabbard. 

“Damn! Oh Gosh, Spike . . . that’s – Really extraordinary,” were the responses from the group. 

Angel stared at the sword as if he had imagined it. His boy bought and imported an antique sword for him. He didn’t know whether he should use it or display it. His favorite broadsword was still his choice of weapon, but this . . . He never expected this. 

“No need for thanks, peaches. Use it, display it . . . whatever you fancy,” Spike shrugged as if it was no big deal. 

Gunn set his spears aside. “Let me see that.” He took the sword and wielded it a few times, twirling it around in striking blows. “With some steady power behind it, it could hold up in a demon fight.” 

Angel nodded and took the weapon back, running his fingers over the design etched into the hilt. Cordelia took the opportunity to pass Spike his present from Angel. 

“Got me something, did you peaches?” Spike commented as he opened the package. 

“It’s nothing compared to this,” Angel said quietly as he replaced the sword in its box. 

Spike glanced at him, shredding the paper on the small package. It was a velvet jewelry box. Before he could open it, Angel grabbed it, covering Spike’s hand. 

“Before you open that . . . I planned to give this to you when we were still talking but then things came up between us and you had to leave. I wasn’t even sure when I’d give it you, but then with the truce . . .” 

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” Spike tugged the box away from Angel and opened it. Inside on a velvet bed laid a white gold Irish ring. Spike held it up and studied the band. Etched inside the band was the Gaelic words ‘gra go deo’. In between each word there was a Celtic Saint Andrew knot. 

“There’s an inscription inside the ring,” Angel said uncertainly. 

Spike moved the ring until the light shone on the engraved words inside the ring. ‘Our destinies forever entwined’ he read to himself. He looked askance at Angel. 

“Told you it was nothing,” Angel waved off. 

Spike looked at the others and they stared back quizzically. They looked as if they didn’t have a clue what the ring meant. He slipped the ring on his thumb and pocketed the velvet box. After that, the rest of the presents were opened with ooh’s and ahh’s. There was conversation in between and many trips back to the kitchen for snacks and refills of drinks. Before anyone realized it, the clock went from 7 pm to midnight. 

Gunn yawned attracting everyone’s attention. “Uh, sorry. Must be tired from all the food,” Cordelia looked at him and he rephrased his statement, “ _Great_ food.” She pursed her lips at him. “And the festivities. Think it’s about time I go home and sleep.” 

“Yeah, go on. We’ll all be here tomorrow,” Angel acquiesced. 

“Oh, calling it a night this soon? Before you know it, we’ll get to have social lives that don’t involve the slaying of demons,” Lorne snarked as he stood up with his half-empty glass. 

“Speak for yourself,” Wesley said with a hint of excitement. “I’m going to be up the rest of the night with that neck massager Cordy got me, reading these books Spike got me.” 

“Don’t forget those two Thighmasters,” Angel chuckled to which Wesley looked chagrined. 

Spike gave his Sire a strange look, mouthing, “He owns a thigh-master?” When Angel held up two fingers in reminder, Spike broke out into giggles. 

“Well, I’m going up to my room,” Fred said as she collected her gifts and stood up. Glancing at the others she said quickly, “Night all,” and rushed up the stairs. 

Angel and Spike watched her leave. Angel turned to the others as they headed for the door, “Well, should we at least meet back here in a few hours and work some more?” 

Wesley looked thoughtful for a moment, “Sounds lovely.” 

“If we’re going to work tomorrow then I’m off to bed as well,” Lorne announced, picking up his gifts and heading up the stairs. “Night all.” 

“Are you coming with me or staying?” Cordelia asked Spike while she stacked her presents. 

Angel looked at Spike waiting for his answer. Spike had said that he got him for Christmas. Technically, it could go one of two ways: one Christmas was over for him and Spike was going home with Cordelia, or two, Spike was staying here and leaving tomorrow. Spike glanced at him and stood up. Angel’s heart sank when Spike picked up Cordelia’s gifts and followed her out of the hotel. He didn’t follow them. Instead, he slumped into the couch and stared at Spike’s gift to him. 

**************************

Outside, Spike carried Cordelia’s gifts to her car and waited until she opened the trunk to deposit them inside. 

“Are you going back inside to get yours?” she asked. Spike shook his head, stepping back and slamming the trunk closed. “You’re strange. You two spent all night groping each other and making out. You’re not going to stay?” 

“I just acknowledged that I wasn’t going to get my stuff. Piece it together, princess.” 

“But, you came out here, so I thought you were – oh,” Cordelia finally caught on and Spike smirked at her. “You were helping me, making him think that you had decided to leave – right?” 

“Can’t have the ponce thinking I’m that predictable. This truce won’t last long, but I did tell him that I was staying for Christmas. Don’t know what will happen in the future. Don’t even know if we’ll make it through the first five minutes when I go back in there.” 

“Isn’t that the point? Not knowing. If you know how it will end up, then why take the journey, right?” She hugged him. “He’s missed you as much as you have him. He’s just being really stubborn about it.” 

“See you tomorrow, Cordy,” Spike said, pulling away. He walked over to the entrance gate and watched her get in her car, rev the engine and wave to him before she drove away. 

**************************

Angel was placing his new sword and scabbard in the weapons cabinet when Spike walked in the front door. Spike watched his Sire from the stairs as he put the sword in place reverently. Angel caught movement in his peripheral vision when he turned. He looked up, surprised to see Spike standing in the entryway. 

“I thought you left with Cordy,” he said quietly. Feeling awkward, he stuck his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Did you come back to get your stuff?” 

“No.” 

“Oh. Well, if you need a place to stay and give Cordy a night to herself or something, there are plenty of rooms,” Angel offered. 

“You are such a dramatic ponce,” Spike said more to himself than to his Sire. Angel’s expression turned grim. “I came back . . . for a while anyway, until you get it into your head to send me back to Sunnydale.” 

Angel watched as Spike walked down the stairs to stand in front of him. “I’m not sure what you want anymore. You won’t open the link between us. You refused to stay with me over the last week. Maybe you’re still mad at me, I don’t know. I don’t know where I stand anymore.” 

“Now you know how I’ve felt all this time. It’s the reason I had to leave. I couldn’t live like that anymore. Things have to change between us somewhere,” Spike was silent for a moment. He raised a brow at his Sire. “So, I get to choose a bedroom?” 

Angel’s brows furrowed in confusion. He nodded, wondering where Spike was going with this. He rejoiced inwardly that Spike stood in his lobby! He hadn’t left with Cordelia! 

“What about your room with that shower we installed?” Spike asked, watching his Sire’s reaction as his suggestion sank in. “And your fat arse in it as well.” He smirked when Angel frowned. He snagged Angel’s shirt and walked backwards towards the stairs. “Christmas truce,” Spike reminded him, “may as well make the best of it.” 

Angel followed Spike up the first flight of stairs with no problems. It was the second flight of stairs and watching Spike’s ass move in the tight jeans that caused the problem. Half way up the stairs, Angel grabbed Spike’s hips and spun him around. Spike tripped on the stairs and fell backward on the incline. 

When he tried to get up, Angel’s mouth came down in a searing, desperate kiss that matched the heat of the earlier kisses. Spike pulled Angel down so that he had to rest a knee on a step for balance. He ripped his Sire’s shirt open and broke the kiss to explore his chest with lips and tongue as the elder vampire towered over him. Pulling Spike’s shirts up over his head, Angel laced his fingers in the blonde hair, directing Spike’s mouth wherever he wished. 

“On your feet,” Angel commanded gruffly as he helped his boy up. 

Spike followed through, grabbing his shirts and ascended the stairs, his eyes tracking Angel’s every step. When they hit the landing, they kissed as a long-denied passion consumed them. They pulled each other’s clothes off on the way to Angel’s room, kicking the door shut. 

Angel fell on the bed with Spike, rolling to their sides. Angel ravished Spike with months of pent up emotion. Demanding a response from his mate, he pulled Spike’s leg up over his hip and reached down to stroke Spike’s erection. He shifted course and sucked on Spike’s neck when his boy rolled to his back to reach for the cleanser. 

Liquid cleanser in hand, Spike pushed Angel onto his back and straddled him. He poured the liquid on their cocks and put the bottle back on the nightstand. He stroked their dicks together, watching Angel’s express turn to one of bliss before he leaned down to tease a nipple with his teeth. Angel dug his nails into Spike’s thighs as he arched and bucked up into Spike’s fist. 

Spike rose up to his knees and guided his Sire into his body. Angel’s head snapped up to watch Spike sink down on him. He tried to reach for his boy’s hips, but Spike grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the pillow on either side of his head. Spike’s mouth was on Angel’s again as he started to move. 

Breaking the kiss, Spike promised, “Someday we’re going to switch places and you’re going to know what this feels like.” 

“Mm,” Angel barely acknowledged the words as Spike’s movements caused him to slide deeper into the receptive body. He growled when the only thing it accomplished was to drive him mad with desire. He couldn’t reach for Spike so he settled for thrusting up and straining for more. 

“I said you get me for Christmas, not that you can touch me,” Spike chuckled. 

Angel growled in frustration, the sound echoing in the room. Spike leaned down and licked Angel’s lips while he rocked back and forth. Angel opened his mouth, allowing entrance and sucked on the tongue. When Spike’s grip slackened, he rolled them over and thrust hard as he reasserted his dominance over the kiss. Spike broke free to snarl when Angel squeezed his cock in a tight grip and stroked the length. 

“Fuck, Angel.” 

“Not any time soon,” Angel replied, thrusting in a hard steady rhythm. 

Spike tried to pull away from the acute feeling on his oversensitive body. Angel took it to mean a change in position and let him turn over on his stomach before thrusting in again. Spike growled at the intrusion and clawed at the sheets. Then, Angel lay over his back, laced their fingers together and thrust deep. He nuzzled Spike’s neck as his hips rocked back and forth instinctively. He released a hand to wrap his fingers around Spike’s cock, giving him the friction he needed. 

Angel waited with baited breath for Spike to let him in. Sure, he was inside Spike’s body physically, but he wanted to slip inside Spike’s mind as well and the wall was still there. He missed the days when he could stimulate his boy’s mind as well as his body during their times together. To Angel, it was a sign that he had hurt Spike deeply and he refused to be vulnerable again. 

“Angel, please,” Spike panted raggedly. 

The voice brought him out of his reverie. He realized that he still had a tight grip on Spike’s erection. Angel began to stroke him again in time with his thrusts. “You want to cum, Spike? Hmm?” He groaned and nearly collapsed when Spike’s inner muscles contracted around him. Angel sped up his thrusts as Spike reached back and grasped his thigh, pulling him closer. 

“If you want me to get any closer, then you’ll have to take down the wall,” Angel whispered. 

“Angel,” Spike growled, shaking his head negatively. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t afford to be that trusting again. Look where it had gotten them. Angel could use it against him like that time in the shower. All they did was fight with the link open. 

“Spike, just open it a little,” Angel nearly begged. 

“I won’t let you control me that way,” Spike gritted out. 

“Don’t want to control you, baby boy. Just want to heighten the senses so you can find release.” 

Several long, excruciating minutes later, Spike gave up the internal struggle and let his guard down. Angel experimentally nudged his mind and sighed in relief when he slipped inside. He closed his eyes and started to thrust slowly as he projected his intense passion into Spike’s mind. 

“Jesus, Angel,” Spike hissed. It felt like the floodgates burst open. His Sire’s strong arousal engulfed his senses and went straight to his groin. The force of it would have crippled him like it did that day in the shower if he hadn’t already been kneeling on the bed. He whimpered as it rolled through him. It was almost painful on his nerve endings. 

“This is what it’s like without you,” Angel whispered hotly in his ear as he surged forward into his boy with hard, possessive thrusts. He growled when he felt Spike reach under them and massage their sacs together while he stroked his cock and moved inside him. 

“Angelus!” Spike yelled hoarsely as the orgasm crashed through him. Angel tightened his grip and found his release inside his mate as Spike’s internal muscles tightened around him. Resting his forehead between Spike’s shoulder blades, Angel breathed heavily as he caressed Spike down from his orgasm. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, New Year’s Day_**

Everything had been going so well in Angel’s world for the last week. He and Spike were on speaking terms. They still argued and bickered, but there were no brawls with each other. Spike had even opened the link a little and allowed Angel to slip in every now and then. 

On New Year’s Eve, the entire team went out to a bar on Sunset Boulevard and toasted the arrival of 2002. Angel and Spike bypassed vampire constitution, got up on the bar’s stage and drunkenly sang Auld Lang Syne with their arms wrapped around each other – much to the amusement of their friends, especially when Angel adopted his former Irish accent during the chorus. 

Things were going smoothly until Cordelia and Fred started to put away the Christmas decorations. An air of apprehension settled over the hotel. The content atmosphere between the vampires changed to cool regard for each other. It resembled their attitude before Christmas. 

“Do I feel a chill in the air?” Lorne asked in greeting as he came down the stairs. 

Spike and Angel seemed to be miles apart from each other, figuratively and literally. Spike sat on the sofa reading the newest issue of _Medieval Armor_ while Angel sat behind the reception desk going through a case file with a glower on his face. 

Cordelia glanced at the two vampires who hadn’t spoken to each other all day as she addressed the demon, “It seems that there’s trouble in paradise. I haven’t seen Spike at my place all week. I started removing the decorations today and he asked if he could come home with me tonight.” 

Lorne listened and looked at the stairways. “Where’s the mistletoe?” 

“Took them down first, why?” 

“They were enchanted by the Furies. The three darlings did me a favor. Call it a Christmas gift. They put a spell on the mistletoe where anyone that kissed under it would express they’re true feelings towards each other.” 

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed at him. “So, you’re to blame for this!” 

“Blame? What did I do?” Lorne asked innocently. 

“Spike and Angel had a big fight and ended up kissing under the mistletoe,” Cordelia said. 

“Oh,” Lorne replied, looking between the vampires. “So, that’s why they were trying to devour each other at Christmas dinner.” 

“And now that the mistletoe’s gone they aren’t speaking to each other!” Cordelia hit Lorne hard on the arm. 

Angel and Spike looked up at the smacking sound. They had heard every word. They looked at each other and Spike sneered at his Sire. Throwing the magazine aside, Spike got up and stalked towards the reception desk. 

“I should have bloody well known that it wasn’t real! You were just out for a convenient shag, selfish prick!” 

“Me!?” Angel looked shocked that he was to blame. 

“You concocted that fight to get me under the mistletoe so that everything would be fine and you could get laid! You were the one that nearly pounced on me every time I turned around! You manipulated me into thinking I called the truce and initiated that shag!” 

“I manipulated you? You were the one that was feeding me blood-dipped roast turkey! How the hell did you expect me to resist that? And then you were prancing around here waving your ass in my face like some tramp!” 

Spike looked mortified. “I’m shocked – _shocked_ – that you would complain! It’s not like you can shag anyone else. You have a tendency to misplace that fluffy soul and turn evil otherwise! You should have asked for a soddin’ anchor for Christmas! That way you can go back to Sunnydale, shag the Slayer and stop using me for a substitute!” 

“I wasn’t using you, you insolent little –” Angel started to say. “I wanted you!” 

“Ha! You _wanted_ me! Like you wanted the Slayer? As some platinum, albeit dangerously sexy, substitute for Darla?” Spike challenged. 

“Darla’s dead! I never wanted her! She chose me! As for Buffy, whatever I had with her is over,” Angel said angrily. 

“Never wanted Darla, huh? You could have fooled me since you dreamt about her a lot last year. And the Slayer? It’ll never be over between you. Every time you two are within city limits of each other, it’s like a bloody sonar signal! Since she’s been back all you’ve done is push me away. Some of it may be about Holtz. Some of it may be that you’re making way for little Buff to come back. I don’t know. From my perspective, I’ve always been second best with you.” When Angel’s only reaction was a dark look, Spike threw his hands in the air. “You want me gone so badly? Fine, you ungrateful, ponce! Why would I ever stick around here? If you need me, I’ll be nowhere near you!” 

Cordelia and Lorne watched Spike storm out of the hotel. The door slammed closed behind him, causing Cordelia to jump. She looked accusingly at Angel who had gone back to his case file as if nothing had happened. 

“Well?” she prompted. 

“Well what?” he asked casually. 

“Are you going to go after him?” she gritted out. 

Angel’s reply was to gather the papers in his case file, go to the manager’s office and slam the door closed, rattling the blinds on the window. 

Cordelia glared daggers at Lorne before she hit him in the arm so hard that he shrank from her and rubbed the tender area. She stomped off on click-clacking heels to finish putting away the decorations.


	20. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 43: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 10)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“I gave you a new entertainment center for your birthday. Why did I have to come with you?” Spike whined as Cordelia pulled into her usual parking space outside the hotel. 

“Don’t you mean that you gave yourself the new entertainment center in the guise of my birthday present?” Cordelia corrected him. 

“It’s not like I can take it with me. Besides your TV was dated and that was on sale,” Spike said flippantly. 

“Oh, so now you’re a cheapskate and I’m not worth the money at full price?” Cordelia raised an eyebrow. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it was the bloody thought that counts? It has a DVD/VCR combo and the best picture on the market today. The guy at the store said so!” Spike said defensively as he got out of the car. 

“Was that sales pitch based on how well the football game looked on the screen?” Cordelia shot back as she got out and locked the car. 

“No,” Spike pouted and mumbled, “Ice hockey.” 

Cordelia gave him a look out of the corner of her eye as they walk into the hotel. When they got in, it was to find Fred and Gunn wearing a face mask and Gunn wearing a hairnet. They were both scrubbing the floor and the lobby smelled strongly of bleach and ammonia. 

“What’s going on here?” Cordelia asked. 

Gunn looked up and removed the face mask. “Angel said he wanted the floor clean of blood from the run-in with Wolfram  & Hart and Holtz.” 

“That sounds like the ponce. Ordering people around and then he disappears,” Spike scoffed. 

“Get down here and help,” Gunn ordered. 

**************************

Two hours later, Spike was helping Gunn clean one side of the lobby floor, his precious duster hanging up on the wall peg. Cordelia and Fred were on the other side of the room. 

Looking bedraggled and shaken, Cordelia was reciting a speech, “I’d . . . just like to say thank you.” She drew in a deep unsteady breath. “You believed in me when no one else would. Even in my darkest hours you were there for me.” Tears started to well up in her eyes. “And that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” She sniffed back the tears. “I guess what I’m really trying to say is – I love you. To all my fans,” She held up a scrub brush in a plastic-gloved hand. “This is for you.” 

Fred applauded wildly. “Wow! That was just – wow! ’Cause . . . oh, and with the tears! I got chill bumps all up my arms.” 

“Yup. That was the famous speech. Not that I’ll ever use it of course . . . unless they start handing out awards for Best Slime and Grime. Oh, I swear. The next time Angel decides to blow something up he’s cleaning his own scorch marks,” Cordelia complained. 

Gunn, carrying a spray bottle and still wearing a face mask, and Spike walked over to them. 

“Been practicing your Academy Award speech again, princess?” Spike teased. She gave him a smirk. 

“Ladies, less yammering, more scrub,” Gunn said. 

“My, Gunn, don’t you look sterile,” Cordelia grimaced at the sight of the vampire hunter. 

Gunn removed the face mask. “Couple more hours of sniffing that industrial cleanser, I think I might be.” 

“One of the many perks of being a vampire. I don’t breathe,” Spike commented. 

“Hey, I don’t suppose you ladies wanna trade jobs?” Gunn asked hopefully. 

Cordelia appeared to seriously think about it, “Ah, hmm. Scrape up Wolfram & Hart’s entrails off floor. Hmm, Fred?” 

Fred nodded agreeably and gave Gunn a sympathetic smile. “You’re screwed.” 

Cordelia chuckled and went back to scrubbing the floor. Gunn leaned closer to Fred and asked, “Wes back yet?” 

“No,” Cordelia answered before Fred could. “He’s still at the store picking up some more extra-strength ‘ick’ remover.” 

Gunn saluted Fred with his spray bottle and returned to the other side of the room. Spike stayed rooted to the spot when he felt a familiar tingle down his spine. He looked up at the staircase to see Angel coming down slowly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

“Well, well, guess who decided to join the living,” Spike sneered. 

Angel looked up at the mocking tone and was met with Spike’s eyes glaring daggers at him. Last week they couldn’t keep their hands off each other . . . spell or not. Now Spike couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Angel didn’t need the link to know that. He could feel the animosity come off his mate in waves. 

“Spike,” Angel acknowledged. “What are you doing here?” 

“Cordy’s birthday, pouf,” Spike scoffed. “I told you I’d stay until it was over.” 

“Yeah, but I just thought you meant in town. I wasn’t expecting you to come back after the holiday disaster.” 

“I don’t know,” Spike shrugged. “I thought it was going fine until some Neanderthal decided to turn into a caveman and use me for sex.” 

“Use you?” Angel’s brows furrowed in confusion. “ _Use you?!_ You practically jumped me.” 

“I--” Spike looked thoroughly disgusted. “I _never jumped you_! You nearly leapt over the dinner table to get to me! You’re the one that’s using me because you can’t have that Slayer bitch.” 

“If I wanted Buffy then I wouldn’t be mated to you now would I?” Angel shot back. 

“The only reason you are mated to me is because you were too insistent on that damn Sire claim to control me that you instigated it. Now I’m stuck with your poncy souled ass on my tether for eternity,” Spike argued. 

“Fuck you Spike,” Angel growled. 

“No thanks. You’ve already done that in more ways than one.” Spike glanced at the other members still on their knees cleaning Angel’s mess up off the floor. Gesturing to them, he added, “And you gone from ordering me about to making them clean up after you.” 

“Don’t you dare bring them into what’s going on between us,” Angel glared at the younger vampire. 

“What exactly _is_ going on between us, Angel? You know, besides your soddin’ ego. Because if you don’t know, I can tell you,” Spike raised a brow. 

Angel stood on the entrance landing and crossed his arms over his chest as he scowled at Spike. “What’s between us then?” 

Spike used his hand to indicate a height short than himself. “A couple of little, deadly, blonde things that you put ahead of me and dropped in my lap to baby-sit so that your bloody conscience can be at ease; had me bouncing around between cities like a boomerang at your beck at call. Don’t give a soddin’ hell about me. You even ran to the Slayer’s side the second she got back from the dead and then left her with me. God, I hate you!” 

Cordelia pulled her rubber gloves off and picked herself up off the floor. “All this arguing is giving me a headache. I’ll be right back, going to go find some aspirin.” 

When she was out of sight, Angel’s stoic face changed and he whispered to Fred, “Does she know?” 

Just then Wesley burst through the door behind Angel carrying two bags. “Where is she?” 

“She just went to the bathroom. Here, let me get that,” Spike said, all anger from a moment ago was now gone. He grabbed the bag Wesley carried sideways on his arm and set it down on the reception desk. Removing the bag and plastic lid, he used his Zippo to light the candles as Fred took the other bag and added it to the presents hidden behind the desk. 

Cordelia came out of the bathroom to find Gunn and Wesley holding a cake with six lit candles and a picture of a female superhero imposed on the icing. All five of them broke into a pathetic version of ‘Happy Birthday’. 

“Oh you guys!” Cordelia exclaimed with a grin. “I can’t believe you did this.” 

“Don’t just stand there,” Gunn said anxiously. “Blow out the candles girl.” 

Cordelia took a deep breath and blew the candles out to everyone cheering. 

“Did you make a wish?” Fred asked as Wesley and Gunn put the cake back on the desk. 

“I sure did.” Cordelia looked around as if expecting someone to appear. “Ah, Jude Law was a little busy, huh?” 

“Oh, how disappointing for you,” Wesley said in mock sympathy. “Well, I guess you won’t be wanting the presents we . . .” 

“Oh, wanting!” Cordelia cut in, “Wanting presents.” When the three of them disappeared, she turned accusing eyes to the two vampires who stood shoulder to shoulder, Spike with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “ _YOU_! You two started that fight as a ploy didn’t you? You knew about this all along! Does this mean you guys are really made up?” 

“Not exactly,” Angel replied. 

“We called a truce until this is over. But that doesn’t mean we’re always congenial,” Spike added with a glare at Angel. 

Angel shifted awkwardly on his feet then pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Um, ah, I—I got you a—a little something.” 

When Spike scoffed at the small velvet box, Cordelia smacked his arm and took the box. “Oh, Angel . . . you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Well, I’m a champion,” Angel replied with a nervous chuckle. “We do important stuff. Hey, and who’s more important than . . .” 

Just then, Wesley, Gunn and Fred ran back with their presents. “You have to forgive the wrapping. Some of us seem to have fostered a strange addiction to Scotch tape,” Wesley said. They were each carrying a big, wrapped box with large bows on top. 

Spike leaned closer to Angel and whispered, “Laying that champion thing on pretty thick aren’t you? What did you buy her anyway?” 

“Earrings,” Angel mumbled. 

“And you mocked my gift of a necklace for Dru for Valentine’s Day,” Spike teased which earned him an elbow to the ribs. 

“Oh, what a cruel dilemma,” Cordelia’s voice faltered as a vision hit her. At first it was a jolt and then another flash hit her like a punch to the gut. She stumbled backwards, dropping the velvet box. 

“Cordy?” Fred asked. 

“There’s a teenager, a girl, she . . . she . . .” Cordelia was suddenly thrown backwards into the glass doors of the weapons cabinet and collapsed amid the shards. 

Angel and Spike ran to her side as she lay motionless on the floor. Wesley, Gunn and Fred clustered around her. 

“Is she alright?” Fred asked anxiously. 

_Cordelia opened her eyes and sat up. “I’m fine – you guys. I’ll be okay. I’m just . . .”_

_She turned to see all of the guys gathered around her body . . . lying a few feet away. Cordelia stared at herself in shocked confusion. “Dead?”_

“Oh no,” Fred exclaimed, a hand over her mouth. 

Angel lightly slapped Cordelia’s face. “Come on, Cordy, wake up. It’s all over. Come back to us.” 

_“I haven’t gone anywhere,” Cordelia said. “Angel . . .”_

“Come on, princess. Wake up,” Spike urged. 

“Angel, is she . . .?” Wesley started to ask. 

“No!” Angel and phantom!Cordelia yelled. 

_“I’m not?” Cordelia asked in surprise._

While Spike tried to revive her, Angel felt for a pulse. “She’s still breathing. Her heart’s still beating.” 

_“Yes! But . . . if I’m not dead then . . .” Cordelia was puzzled by her own predicament. If she wasn’t dead then what was she?_

“She’s just in some sort of trance or coma,” Angel unknowingly answered her question. 

“Coma?” Spike echoed. 

_“Like hell I am!” Cordelia yelled indignantly._

“Let’s get her over to the couch,” Angel said. 

Spike stood up as Angel picked Cordelia up in his arms and put her on the couch. 

_“Okay, I get it. This is some kind of bizarre birthday present you guys cooked up,” Cordelia commented but no one answered her._

Fred saw the bottle of prescription meds on the floor where Cordelia had collapsed and she picked it up. 

_“All right. The joke’s on me. Now put me back in my body!” Cordelia yelled._

Glancing at Cordelia, Angel turned to face the others. Spike stood nearby. “It was a vision wasn’t it? I mean, she just started saying something about a girl . . .” 

_Cordelia got excited at that. “That’s right! She’s in a house on Oak Street.” No one heard or saw her. “In the middle of Reseda. It feels like we have some time here, but --” She finally realized no one acknowledged her. “You can’t hear me can you?”_

“What’s all the hubbub?” Lorne asked as he came down the stairs. 

_“Lorne! Thank God! You can hear me, right? ’Cause if there’s some weird, other-worldly thing going on you’d still be able to . . .” Her voice trailed off as Lorne walked right through her, never noticing her. “Oh. That’s not good.” Just then a black shadow passed overhead. “Did anyone else just see that?”_

“Jumping Judas on a unicycle,” Lorne exclaimed. “What happened?” 

“All we know is that she had a vision,” Angel replied. 

“Or she’s stepped up her acting skills and doing a great impression of miming the dead,” Spike added. 

“There is a lot we don’t know,” Fred said and held out the bottle of pills to Angel. “I think she dropped this.” 

_“No Fred!” Cordelia yelled. “Put that away. That’s not important.”_

“Seltrex,” Fred commented. 

“Oh God,” Wesley said to himself. 

Angel read the label, but didn’t understand it any better than before. “What’s Seltrex?” 

_“Nothing!” Cordelia said. “It’s just . . .”_

“Seltrex is a highly powerful migraine medication,” Wesley explained. 

“Maybe we should get her to a hospital,” Gunn suggested. 

“So they can do what?” Angel asked. His voice only hinted at the anxiety he felt. “Do what they did last time: strap her to a bed and tell us there’s no hope?” 

“Angel is right,” Wesley said. “Seltrex is potent but it doesn’t cause catatonia.” 

Angel looked around the room seemingly lost. Cordelia had a vision but they didn’t know exactly what it was. Somehow the vision sent her into a coma? How could they have missed this? How did they let it get this bad without noticing? Where the hell were his vampire senses when she was taking strong migraine meds for the visions? Where was . . .? Just then, he looked at Spike and his expression became dark and foreboding. 

“You!” Angel growled. 

Spike looked over at him from talking to Gunn about Cordelia. “Wot?” 

“You’re the one that was living with her. How come you didn’t see this coming? Why didn’t you warn us that this was going on?” Angel asked in a menacing voice as he stalked towards his mate. 

“I was sleeping on her couch. I wasn’t reading her diary or with her every second of the day!” Spike said defensively. 

“A leopard can’t change his spots, Spike! You have a gift for getting into things where no one wants you to be. You couldn’t have gone through her drawers or medicine cabinet?” Angel challenged. 

“There are three of us living in that apartment,” Spike snapped, starting to get angry at being accused of something he had no clue about. “You think I would find anything if he didn’t want it to be seen?” 

“Denis is a ghost, work around him!” Angel yelled, and then gestured towards a comatose Cordelia. “Who knows what she saw? It could be something dangerous and we have no clue what it is or where to fight it! She’s in a coma . . . all because you developed a sense of respect. You, who never respected anything in your life!” 

Spike’s face took on an indignant expression. “I _respected_ Angelus! Though, now that I think about it, ‘respect’ may be too strong of a word. _Tolerated_ sounds more like it.” 

“That’s beside the point!” 

“Then get to it already and stop giving me a lecture because you fucked up in raising me.” 

“You could have rifled through her things and found out what was going on before it came to this. Why did you have to go and develop a sense of decorum?” 

“First, you hogtie me with a Sire-Claim so that I don’t misbehave and now you’re upset that I like her enough not to pry into her private life?” 

“Guys, I’m picking up some hardcore woo-woo vibes in the room. This ain’t medical, kids. It’s mystical,” Lorne spoke up, breaking into the heated argument. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Fred said exasperated. “There is so much we don’t know. If Cordelia is taking a drug this powerful in secret, then the visions are probably doing a lot more damage than she’s been letting on.” 

“This last one must have overloaded her,” Gunn commented. 

“Don’t say last!” Angel and Spike yelled in unison. They looked at each other surprised that the other one cared just as much as the other did about her. “She’ll come out of this. She has to.” 

_“She will!” Cordelia stressed even though no one could see or hear her._

Angel glanced at Spike’s stony expression. He had hurt his boy again with words he couldn’t take back. They couldn’t talk this out. Not right now anyway, when one of their friends was in danger. Internally, he shelved his relationship with Spike until later to deal with the task at hand. “Okay. Look, if this is a mystical problem there has to be some kind of mystical solution.” 

_“There you go. Great idea,” Cordelia agreed._

“Gunn, you and Fred go to Cordy’s place,” Angel said. 

_“No! Bad idea!” Cordelia contradicted herself._

“Why not me?” Spike asked. 

Angel glared at him as if to say: ‘You weren’t any help before, how can you be now?’ Picking up Cordelia’s body, he added, “See if she’s been hiding anything that could tell us what’s wrong with her. Wes?” 

“I’ll hit the books,” the former Watcher answered before he could ask. 

“Come on, Spike. You and I are going to have a chat,” Angel said gruffly as he carried his seer up the stairs. 

“I thought that’s what we were doing, ponce,” Spike said as he followed Angel, leaving ghost!Cordelia behind in the lobby. 

_“Does nobody care that there is a girl in Reseda that is about to be fed to a no-eyed, three-mouthed monster?” Cordelia called out. A second later she heard whispering but couldn’t make out the words. “Message, I’ll leave a message.” She walked over to the reception desk and reached for a pen, but her hand went right through it. She tried again with the same results._

**************************

Angel and Spike took Cordelia to a spare room two doors down from Angel’s room and placed her on the bed. Once Angel had her settled, he rounded on Spike. 

“What is going on with you?” Angel growled. 

“Me? I’d say you were the one being all melodramatic over this,” Spike replied. 

“Cordelia is in a coma!” Angel ground out. 

“I can see that pillock!” Spike shot back. “Not much I can do about it. We’ll have to wait until Fred and Gunn come back with anything.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Cordelia’s Apartment_**

Gunn and Fred stood inside the door of Cordelia’s apartment facing a floating party hat and noisemaker, confetti floating down from the ceiling and a ‘Happy Birthday’ sign. 

“I think phantom Denis was expecting the birthday girl,” Gunn whispered to Fred. 

Fred gave a big smile and stepped forward. “Oh. Hi there. I-I know we haven’t been formally introduced . . . Actually, I’m not sure how to introduce myself to someone who is, you know . . . former. But, I’m Fred!” She reached out and shook the top of the party hat. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Fred, you are,” Gunn smiled and chuckled at her actions. “You are so cool.” 

She stepped closer to him and whispered, “I think we should tell him.” 

Gunn took a deep breath and moved forward. “Okay. Uh, you might want to . . .” He looked perplexed at Fred. “Do ghosts sit down? Okay, look. Cordelia had a vision. It’s bad. She’s in a coma and we need to search the house for anything that may have harmed her.” 

When nothing happened, he and Fred took it as a sign to go ahead and search the apartment. 

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Fred said from the bathroom. 

“What doesn’t?” Gunn called out from the bedroom. 

“It’s all,” Fred looked through the medicine cabinet, “Normal. She shut the cabinet door. 

“And that’s wrong?” Gunn asked from the doorway. 

“No,” Fred replied and turned around to see Gunn standing there with one of Cordy’s bras in his hands. “What’s _wrong_ is you picking through Cordy’s,” She flailed around gesturing at her chest. Gunn raised a brow at her. “Support . . . things.” 

“What . . . this?” Gunn raised the bra. “Come on, you’re telling me that you never hid anything in your underwear drawer. 

Fred gave him an indignant look. “I don’t know. I mean, for five years I didn’t even have . . .” she sighed in exasperation. “Can we not talk about my underwear, please? And put that down.” Gunn dropped the bra on a table. “I just figured that if Cordy was taking something serious like Seltrex, she’d have tried other stuff first. But there’s not even any aspirin in here.” She leaned closer to Gunn and whispered, “I think he’s protecting her.” 

Gunn looked around the room and slowly moved back to Cordelia’s bedroom. “Phantom Denis? Listen, we would never ask you to betray Cordelia, but we need to see whatever it is she’s been hiding from us. I mean, unless you’re so hyped on the ghosting life that you want her to join you?” 

After a moment nothing happened. Gunn heaved a sigh and dropped down on the end of Cordelia’s bed. It seemed as if that had pressed an eject button as a storage container slid out from under the bed. Fred and Gunn opened it to find it full of pill bottles. 

“Hmm-mm,” Fred said. “You looked through the underwear drawer first, didn’t you?” They picked through the bottles and she read a few labels. “The date on this prescription is from a year ago.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Room_**

Cordelia’s body lay on the bed. Angel sat in a chair, a hard look in his eyes as he held her hand. Spike had gone to get him a glass of blood while he watched over her. The more he thought about the situation, the angrier he became. How could she be this bad off and not tell anyone? How could she hide it from him or Spike? His boy was the most observant person he knew, how come he didn’t see what was going on? 

“Look, I know you can’t hear me,” Angel said aloud. “But, there’s something I have to say.” He carefully laid her hand on the bed, afraid of harming her in his irritation. “You really piss me off, you know that? I thought we trusted each other. But you’ve been lying to us. M.R.I.’s and C.A.T. scans and it’s been going on for a year? Why couldn’t you let us in? Spike could have helped you. _I_ could have helped you. I’m so furious with you right now.” 

_“You’re furious? I get body-jacked on my birthday and **you’re** the one that’s furious?” Cordelia asked in disbelief._

“Never thought of arguing with a coma patient as an effective way to bring them around,” Spike said as he walked in the door with two mugs of blood. 

Angel glanced up in surprise as if he didn’t recall Spike being in the hotel. The look was there one second and gone the next. “Where’s Lorne?” 

“He’s coming. He had to get a few things to prepare for it,” Spike replied, handing Angel a mug. 

“Hope this works. Maybe it’s just a passing phase and she’ll snap out of it,” Angel said. 

Lorne walked in with a rap of knuckles on the open door. “Knock, knock. How is she?” 

“The same,” Angel replied. “Are you ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be,” Lorne said. 

_“For what? What’s he going to do?” Cordelia asked._

Lorne walked past her and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Although I’m sort of wishing I brought my helmet. Last time I tried this I got blown across the room.” 

“I thought that’s what you were getting, mate,” Spike said. 

“No I was getting myself a Sea Breeze to prepare myself for the possibility of being thrown,” Lorne said glibly. 

_Realizing what the empath demon was up to, Cordelia crossed her fingers. “Oh, God, please let this work.”_

Lorne placed his fingertips on comatose!Cordelia’s temples and closed his eyes. “Cordelia? Are you there?” he asked. 

_“It’s me. Lorne, I’m here,” Cordelia replied._

“Cordelia?” Lorne asked again. 

_Cordelia’s eyes popped open. “Yes! One-seven-one Oak Street. Can you hear me? Lorne?”_

Lorne dropped his hands and frowned at the two vampires who watched and waited with baited breath to see what would happen. 

Looking between the Pylean demon and his seer’s body, Angel inquired anxiously, “What?” 

“Cordelia’s not in there,” Lorne said sadly. “She’s just gone.” 

_“I’m standing right in front of you!” Cordelia yelled as she waved her hands in front of Angel’s face._

Angel sighed and rested his head in his hands. Spike squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. It was an uncharacteristic move given their current feud with each other. Angel raised his head. “No. This isn’t going to happen.” He shrugged Spike’s hand off and stood up. Advancing on Lorne he said threateningly, “I don’t care how many favors you have to call in. I don’t care how many gods you have to cross. You have a connection to the Powers That Be and you’re going to find me a way to talk to them. Understand?” 

Lorne took a step back at the animosity in Angel’s voice. “A-angel honey, it-it’s not that easy. I mean, contacting the Powers is a muddy, not to mention dangerous, area. But this is a – this is a bit much to ask.” 

“I’m. Not. Asking,” Angel growled. Lorne sighed and walked out of the room. Angel turned his glare on Spike daring him to say something. 

“A little harsh on him, don’t you think?” Spike asked. 

“What else did you want me to do, Spike? Cordelia’s body is lying in a coma. He just said her spirit was gone. It’s just a shell. Who knows where she is or what she’s going through?” 

“I’m not arguing that, Angel. I want her back as much as you do. You’re not the only one that cares about the people in this team. Stop acting like you’re the only one that lost her.” Spike turned on his heel and walked out of the room leaving Angel to scowl at his retreating back. 

When Angel fell asleep while watching over Cordy, Ghost!Cordelia went over and sat down on the chair melting into Angel’s body as she positions herself in synch with him. Suddenly, Angel's head came up and he exhaled slowly as he stood up. When he picked up a permanent marker from the nightstand, he knocked over a glass sitting beside it. Moving slowly, he started to write: 171 OAK on the wall above the bed. As soon as she was in Angel’s body, something yanked her right back out. Angel collapsed on the floor. 

Wesley walked in just as Angel picked himself up off the floor. “Angel, what are you doing?” 

“I don’t know,” Angel replied as he looked around for the cause to explain the situation. “I had this dream that, uh . . . Cordy was here. She was trying to tell me something. It may have been important, not sure now. It’s weird.” 

“Yes, well, Fred studied Cordy’s latest CAT scans,” Wesley frowned at him. “The news isn’t good. The tests show widespread neuro-electrical deterioration.” 

“She’s dying?” Angel surmised. 

Wesley nodded. “I’m still working on the mystical aspect: trance states, astral projection . . . spiritual possession. But so far I haven’t been able to . . . Why don’t you take a break? I can watch over her.” 

Angel left the room and went downstairs to see Gunn, Fred and Spike huddled around Wesley’s desk. Going into the office, he leaned over the desk and asked, “So what did you find out?” 

Fred laid a page down with a picture of a brain scan. “That was from eight months ago. The red spots are what they call hot areas or what you’d expect from a healthy, functioning brain. This one,” she laid another down over the first one, “Is dated one month ago.” 

“Cordy’s doctors couldn’t explain it,” Gunn added. 

Fred moved the print, revealing one that was mostly green and yellow. “See, green is a cold color, usually signifying dead areas of the cerebrum. Normally you wouldn’t see a scan like that . . .” 

“Unless the person was a cucumber,” Spike added. 

“How could we not know?” Angel said as he looked between the two prints. 

Just then, Lorne stumbled into the room, moaning and holding his head. His clothes were torn and his left horn was dangling by a thread. “Oh, for the love of God, somebody _get_ me a Sea-Breeze.” 

Fred dropped the scans on the desk at the sight of the empath demon. “Lorne! What happened?” 

“I can’t really talk about it,” Lorne groaned. 

“Then how the hell are we supposed to find them so we can kick their asses?” Gunn asked. 

“No, I mean I _can’t_ talk about it,” Lorne clarified. “They cast a spell. I went down to the lo . . .” He tried to describe it, but his speech became garbled. “See?” 

“Did you get the information?” Angel asked anxiously. 

“Oh, why yes, Angel. My horns should grow back in a couple of days,” Lorne said sarcastically, “So kind of you to be concerned.” Angel and Spike stared at him expectantly. “Well, they didn’t say I couldn’t write it.” 

Lorne held out a piece of paper and Spike snatched it. He was about to read it when Angel seized it and headed for the door, ignoring the indignant sound that came from Spike. The blonde vampire was about to follow him with the intention of stealing the job away from his Sire when Lorne’s words stopped him. 

“Angel, all kidding aside, this isn’t something to be taken lightly. Only a champion can deal with the conduit. And even then you have to la-argh arr . . .” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Angel said as he walked out the door. 

“How come there are no jobs for us little people? Why the bloody hell am I even here?” Spike sighed as he threw up his hands and went back to examining the scans of Cordelia’s brain. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, the Summers’ Residence_**

Dawn was asleep in bed with a teddy bear beside her when Buffy walked in fully clothed in a turtleneck, jeans and leather jacket. She watched Dawn from the doorway for a moment before sitting on the bed and gently waking her up. 

“Hey,” Buffy said softly. 

“What time is it?” Dawn asked sleepily. 

“It’s late. I wanted . . .” Buffy stopped for a moment and Dawn frowned. “I love you. You know that, right?” 

Dawn sat up, alarmed at the strange faraway tone in her sister’s voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“I know I haven’t been everything I should be . . . everything Mom was . . .” Dawn looked stricken at Buffy’s tearful words. “. . . But I love you. I always will.” 

“Why are you talking like this? Buffy?” Dawn asked anxiously. 

“There was an accident, in the woods,” Buffy said shakily. “A girl . . . she was hurt. I hurt someone.” 

“Oh my God,” Dawn said shocked. “Is she all right?” 

“No,” Buffy sniffed, trying to hold back the tears. “I’m sorry.” Dawn hugged her. “There’s something I have to do. I have to tell what I did. I have to go to the police.” 

Dawn pulled away from her as if she were burned, “The police?” 

“Dawnie, I have to,” Buffy pleaded. 

“But . . . what’s going to happen?” Dawn asked. 

“I don’t know,” Buffy shook her head. 

“They’ll take you away, won’t they?” Dawn asked, near tears herself. 

“I don’t know,” Buffy repeated. 

“No, you're not,” Dawn sneered. Buffy looked surprise at the accusing tone, “You’re never here. You can’t even stand to be around me.” 

“That’s not true,” Buffy said in disbelief. 

“You don’t want to be here with me. You didn’t want to come back. I know that. You were happier where you were,” Dawn cried. “You want to go away again.” 

“Dawn . . .” Buffy said helplessly. 

“Then go! You’re not really here anyway,” Dawn said accusingly before she jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Room_**

Spike was sitting at her bedside watching over her. He was still angry at Angel’s blasé attitude over him being there. His Sire had become ambivalent about him ever since that mistletoe spell ended at New Year’s. Maybe he should just go back to Sunnydale. It’s not like Angel would miss him. He couldn’t stay at Cordy’s apartment forever. A girl had to have her own space. He remembered that much from his relationship with Drusilla. Whenever she felt hemmed in, she’d take off to fuck knew where and when she got lonely, she came back. Besides, he had furnished the Crawford Street Mansion with all his creature comforts. After Cordelia came back from wherever she was, he’d leave. 

Spike was shaken from his thoughts with a soft rap of knuckles on the door. He looked up to see Fred standing there. 

“Is Angel back?” 

“No.” 

“Damn it,” Spike cursed. 

“There’s a phone call for you downstairs,” Fred said. 

“A phone call? Angel called the hotel? Why didn’t he just call my cell?” 

“It’s not Angel. It’s a girl, sounded kind of young. She seemed anxious to get a hold of you.” 

“The only women I know that want me that badly are here in this room,” Spike replied. 

Fred gave a small smile at the compliment. Spike stood up and walked past her on the way out. He stopped long enough to say, “Watch her?” 

Fred nodded and Spike left the room to go down and answer the phone. When he got to Wesley’s office, Gunn was sitting at the desk going through everything they had on Cordelia’s mystical coma. A corded phone receiver was sitting on the desk. 

Spike picked it up, “This better be bloody important.” 

“Spike?” a small fearful voice said. 

“Dawn? What’s going on?” 

“It’s Buffy. I think she’s . . . something happened. She’s gone to turn herself in.” 

“What? What happened?” 

“She said that she killed a girl on patrol. She went to turn herself in to the police.” 

“Balls!” _She would be just that stupid._

“Spike? Are you going to stop her? I can’t, she won’t listen to me,” Dawn said. 

“How do you know she didn’t do it?” 

“I know her, Spike. She’s a slayer, but she’s not a murderer. She’s not Faith. She wouldn’t kill a human,” Dawn said matter-of-factly. 

“I have important things to do here. Cordy’s --” Spike started to say. 

“Spike, please. I heard that Angel told you to protect her. Well, she’s about to turn herself in for something she didn’t do.” 

“You don’t know that for sure. Maybe she went off her bloody rocker finally and tried to be the Big Bad,” Spike countered. 

“Spike! You aren’t listening! She didn’t do this!” Dawn said adamantly. 

“Dawn, I have a more pressing issue at the moment. Cordy’s in a--” 

“She’s the Slayer, Spike. You can’t have two slayers in prison and let the Hellmouth go unprotected,” Dawn stressed. 

“Fine! I’ll come up and look into it. But if this is a bloody prank ’cause the Slayer’s on a PMS binge or some other bollocks, then I’ll --” 

“Thanks Spike,” Dawn sounded relieved before she hung up. 

Spike hung up and cursed a blue streak. 

“I take it that it was nothing good?” Gunn surmised. 

“The bloody Slayer’s gotten herself in trouble. The bint must be a walking sign asking for it. Her sister wants me to go up and see what I can do to help her,” Spike explained as he unconsciously pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. 

“Do you need a ride back up there?” Gunn offered. 

“Gotta pick up my stuff at Cordy’s before I go,” Spike said. “You sure Fred’s going to be all right alone?” 

“Lorne’s here. He can stay with them until I get back,” Gunn said as he jumped up to get his coat and keys. 

**************************

**_Mystical Chamber of the Powers That Be_**

“Its pleas are pointless. Her path is chosen. We will not interfere,” the Voices whispered. 

“The visions are too much,” Angel stressed. “She’s not strong enough to handle them.” 

“Obstinate. It speaks and does not listen,” the Voices whispered. 

Angel spun around, yelling, “No, you’re not listening! Cordelia is _not_ a champion. She’s a _rich_ girl from Sunnydale who likes to play _superhero_. She _doesn’t_ have what it takes to _do_ this! Don’t the Powers _get_ that? Stop _whispering_ and _listen_ to me, damn it! She’s _weak_. You’re killing her! She’s unconscious, and she’s alone. Who knows if she’s in pain?” 

“It is angry. It is afraid,” the Voices whispered. 

Angel sighed. “I’m more afraid of her dying than she is. What is that?” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike and Gunn burst through the door of the mansion carrying Spike’s hunting gear and duffel bag of clothes. The hunting gear was deposited in the hall and the clothes were tossed in the laundry. Spike stopped in the kitchen to fix a glass of blood. 

“Do you want anything to drink, Charlie-boy?” Spike asked as he punched in the time on the microwave. 

“Nah, could use the bathroom though,” Gunn replied. 

“Down the hall there,” Spike gestured in that direction and called out, “I did offer to drive back.” 

“No thanks. I’d like my baby to be in one piece,” Gunn yelled back before shutting the bathroom door. Spike waited with a smirk on his face until he heard Gunn yell out, “Hot damn! This bathroom is fit for a king! It’s bigger than my whole apartment!” 

Spike chuckled as he took the glass of blood out of the microwave and drank it. 

“So, you off to save that girl from whatever it is she’s gotten herself into?” Gunn asked when he came back to the kitchen. 

“Have to. ’S part of the deal. I play nice and keep the slayer alive and my grand old Sire doesn’t send me to a dusty ending,” Spike explained. 

“I think Angel’s past caring about that. I don’t think he’s going to dust you over Buffy’s issues anymore,” Gunn said. 

“Oh-ho! You don’t know Angel as well as you think you do. He and the Slayer had the most forbidden love of all loves. Makes Romeo and Juliet look like a Sesame Street production.” 

“Yeah, well . . . good luck with that,” Gunn smirked. “I got to get back to the Hyperion before Angel gets back and wonders why no one’s manning the phones. Or something, can’t really tell with him these days what he’ll be pissed about.” 

“I’m mated to the son of a bitch and I still have no clue. Word of warning though, mate: if you feel like you’re walking on egg shells around his moods, knock him one. ’S what I do.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Later,” Gunn waved and walked out the door. A few minutes later Spike heard the truck sputter to start and Gunn drive off. He sighed as he collected a few stakes and a new pack of cigarettes before heading out the door himself. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Alley behind the Police Station_**

The police station was busy with the shift change as the day shift left and the night shift entered the building. Across from the building was an alley in which Buffy appeared at the mouth, walking slowly. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” a thick British accented voice said behind her. 

“The right thing,” Buffy said as she kept walking. 

Spike’s steps sped up behind her before he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back into the alley. He spun her around and tossed her to the ground. 

“Sorry, luv, can’t let you do that,” he said as she got to her feet. 

“I have to tell them what happened,” Buffy insisted. 

“Nothing happened,” Spike stated flatly. 

“I killed that girl!” Buffy said. 

“There is no girl,” Spike said. 

“Yes, there is! I’ll show them,” she said. 

“Show them what? There’s no body. Dawn told me what you said. I followed your normal patrol route and there is no body. What are you going to show them?” Spike asked. 

Buffy’s expression turned to anger when she realized what he was saying. “What did _you_ do?” 

“Just what I said,” Spike growled. “I checked your route but there is no body there. Maybe you were hallucinating?” 

“I was _not_ hallucinating! I saw her. She was dead and I killed her!” Buffy yelled at him. “What are you doing here anyway?” 

“Saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life apparently,” Spike grumbled. “I didn’t want to come, but Dawn called me and told me what fool thing you were up to.” 

“Well, she shouldn’t have. It’s none of your business. Now get out of my way,” Buffy said as tried to move around him. 

Spike shoved her back. “It’s not your call. You aren’t going anywhere. You’re going to go home, climb into that fluffy bed of yours and forget whatever you thought you saw,” Spike instructed. 

Across the street, Spike heard a cop outside say, “Where’d they find her?” 

“The river. She washed up half a mile from the cemetery,” a second cop replied as two more uniformed officers rushed out towards a cruiser. Another police car zoomed past the alley with its lights flashing and sirens blaring. 

Spike and Buffy glared accusingly at each other. 

“Unless you did something like touch her, there isn’t anything to connect her to you,” Spike said. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. 

“It wasn’t your fault!” Spike yelled. 

“I killed her!” Buffy insisted. 

“Even if you did, it was an accident. It just happened,” Spike growled. 

“Nothing just happens,” Buffy spat and started walking towards the police station when Spike grabbed her arm. 

“You’re not going in there,” he said. 

“I have to do this. Just let me go.” 

“I can’t. Angel told me to watch out for you and I’m doing that. If you go in there now, I can’t protect you from anyone . . . including yourself.” 

“Screw Angel,” Buffy sneered. “He’s not here. He hasn’t cared for a while. He has no say in what I do with my life!” 

“He does care! Why the hell would he send me back after he destroyed the Gem of Amarra? Or when you came back from the dead? Have you ever asked yourself why he would tether me and send me back to look after my enemy?” 

“He’s a vampire. He probably gets some perverse kick out of it. Now, let me go!” Buffy tried to shrug him off. When he wouldn’t release her, she hauled off and punched him in the face. The power behind it threw him back into a couple of garbage cans, against the wall of the next building. 

“Screw you and Angel. Just go back to L.A. and leave me alone,” Buffy said and started to leave again but a game-faced Spike suddenly grabbed her from behind and threw her several feet back, down the alley. 

“You are not throwing your life away over this,” Spike growled through a mouthful of fangs. 

“It’s not your choice!” 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Spike asked. Why did she and Angel both have to play the martyr? Why did everything have to be a sacrifice? Why did he even care whether she turned herself in? He should be in L.A. with Cordelia and Fred and Gunn waiting for Angel’s return with any news from the Powers on her condition. He shouldn’t be here doing this. 

“A girl is dead because of me,” Buffy said tearfully. 

“And how many people are alive because of you? How many have you saved? One dead girl doesn’t tip the scale. If, in fact, she was even dead to begin with,” Spike countered. 

“How can you . . .? There isn’t a karmic chart! She may be just another body to you or Angel and that band of lunatics he works with down there. But up here on the Hellmouth death is real and it has nothing to do with redemption. Now, get out of my way!” 

“They aren’t lunatics! Gunn’s a vampire hunter, Fred’s a beautiful physics major, and Cordy’s in a --” 

She didn’t give him time to finish before she threw a punch at him which he blocked at the last minute only to be hit with a right hook in the jaw and another punch to the stomach. 

“You can’t understand why this is killing me, can you?” Buffy cried. 

“Why don’t you explain it?” Spike asked as he delivered his own punch to her face as payback for her attack. 

She hit him a few more times for good measure. He allowed it for a while until she hit the tender spots one too many times and shoved her back, causing her to stumble but still keep her footing. That was when she kicked him in the shins. 

“That all you got, Slayer?” Spike taunted. It seemed the best thing to do. She’d fight him, get all her angst out, maybe tire herself out and then he could probably talk some sense into her. 

She hit him hard, throwing him back on his ass. She sat on top of him and starting laying punches over and over. “You don’t have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You’re dead inside! You can’t feel anything real!” 

“Yet Angel has a soul and acts like a bastard. You think he felt anything? You think he’s so fucking pure? He’s not! He may have a soul, but he’s still a vampire, pet. The soul only gives him a way to care about what he’s doing. It doesn’t stop him from doing it. He didn’t give up being a vampire for you. So, get him off that pedestal you have him on or I’ll really do it for you!” Spike said as he punched her so hard she fell off him and onto the sidewalk, scraping her palms on the pavement. 

Spike rolled to his feet and reached up to touch the tender area around his eyes. He watched her warily as she got to her feet, but she still blindsided him with a fist to his jaw again. She threw another punch but he blocked it. 

“Angel’s good. He has a soul,” Buffy said petulantly. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s good and has a soul. He’s still a fucking vampire. He can still do damage and has. If you only knew about half the things I’ve seen him do down there, that we’ve done. The soul gives him a conscience. It doesn’t make him a saint, Buffy. No matter what his name implies,” Spike sneered. 

Buffy gave him a horrified look before punching him so hard he flew back against the wall opposite the trash cans and slumped to the ground. She looked at him in dismay. 

“Buffy?” Spike asked cautiously. 

Ignoring him, she turned and walked out of the alley towards the police station. 

“Buffy!” Spike yelled after her as he staggered to his feet. 

Being thrown into the wall was going to hurt later. When he saw that she was too far away to stop her without drawing attention, he walked back to his car at the other end of the alley and drove back to the mansion. 

Back at the police station, Buffy walked into the building. Various officers and other people were milling around. She paused, noticing an officer behind the front desk, on the phone. 

“No, no statements. Not until I get confirmation,” the desk sergeant was saying. 

“Excuse me, I need to . . .” Buffy started to say. 

The officer paused in his phone call and said, “I’ll be with you in a sec.” He pushed a button for another phone line. “Sunnydale P.D. Yeah, the phone’s ringing off the hook here.” Buffy turned away, uncertain of what she was about to do. Getting cold feet, she took a few steps away before she heard the officer say, “Listen, you got an ID on that body yet? Yeah? Okay, shoot. Katrina . . . Silber. S-I-L-B-E-R. Got it.” 

That name triggered a memory of meeting Warren and Katrina a year before when Warren’s robot girlfriend searched Sunnydale trying to find him and Katrina was there demanding to know who Buffy was and why Warren was keeping secrets from her about other women in his life. “Warren . . .” Realizing she didn’t murder anyone, she walked out of the station without another word. 

The desk sergeant hung up after he got the information he needed and looked up. “Now what’s the problem, Miss . . .” When no one was there, he shrugged and went back to his paperwork. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike slammed the front door closed and locked it. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch before switching on a lamp beside it. He used the remote to turn the TV on to some innocuous program and headed directly for the bathroom and the whirlpool tub. He knew there was a reason he had the thing installed. However, he didn’t think he’d be using it to soothe injuries he received from the Slayer. 

Spike turned on the faucet and put the stopper in the drain. Unclipping his cell phone from his waistband, he set it aside and undressed before going over to the cabinet under the sink to retrieve some bubble bath. He refused to admit that he was a pouf like Angel. It didn’t matter that the bottle said that it was Lavender and Mint fragrance. 

He poured a dollop in with the running water, capped it and put it back before climbing into the huge tub. Leaning back, he groaned and relaxed as the rising water lapped at his aching body. When the tub was full, he used his foot to shut the faucet off. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Gunn had returned to the hotel an hour before Angel stormed in, angry that the Powers still refused to help Cordelia. He looked up when Angel came in. 

“Goddamn Powers are good for nothing. We’re on our own. Where’s Spike?” Angel asked as he leaned against the reception desk. 

“Uh, something happened and there’s been a change of plans,” Gunn said uncertain with how Angel would take the news. 

“Something happened? Did Cordy die?” Angel sounded worried. 

“No, she’s still in a coma. But, Spike had to go back to Sunnydale.” 

“Cordy’s in a coma and he just _decided_ to go back to Sunnydale! I knew it! Can’t trust him to do anything,” Angel growled and punched the support beam that anchored the desk to the floor and ceiling. “I leave to do an errand and he skipped town!” 

Gunn raised his hand. “In Spike’s defense he didn’t want to leave. Someone called and he went up there to help. Something to do with your ex-girlfriend.” 

“What could be so important with Buffy that he left Cordy alone?” Angel asked angrily. 

Gunn shrugged. “I don’t know. But, the way he tells it, you made her his number one responsibility. So, he’s up there dealing with it.” 

“Ohhh, just wait until I get a hold of his undead ass,” Angel grumbled, taking out his cell phone and punching in Spike’s number so hard that Gunn thought he’d break the buttons. Angel turned away and was stomping up the stairs when Spike apparently picked up. All Gunn heard was, “Where the fuck are you?” before Angel disappeared upstairs completely. 

“I am, the fuck, past my lily white arse and up to my neck in Lavender and Mint,” Spike spat in answer. 

“Lavender and Mint, what the hell?” Angel growled. 

“Your girl took a bit of her anger out on me and now I’m soaking in a tub!” Spike clarified just as irate at his Sire. 

Angel’s brows drew together in rage. Holding out the phone he screamed, “You fucking dick! Cordy’s dying and you went back home to take a bath?!” 

“You know what? I rarely agree with anything the Slayer says, but she’s right. Fuck you, Angel!” Spike yelled back and punched the power button, clicking the phone off. 

“Spike? Spike?” Angel asked when he didn’t hear his mate’s voice anymore. “Spike!” 

Angel snapped his cell phone shut and pocketed it before going into Cordelia’s room and sitting next to the bed. It was hopeless. He didn’t know how to fix this. The Powers That Be weren’t any help. They never were when they needed to step in. Just when Angel slumped back in the chair looking defeated, Cordelia’s body arced back and she screamed in pain. Angel glanced up, unable to believe that she had woken up and was moving. He rushed to her side just as the rest of the gang came running, alarmed at her scream. 

“What happened to her?” Fred asked as she came in from her bedroom on the same floor. 

Cordelia sat up on the bed, gasping for air she thought she’d never breathe again, and opened her eyes. Angel caught her up in a hug. 

“I thought we’d lost you,” Angel said gratefully. 

“Angel,” Cordelia gasped. Then, she remembered what had happened in her coma vision-dream and felt her head for any foreign objects. “No horns,” she smiled and then checked her backside. “No tail.” 

Angel looked confused at her and then looked at the others, but they were just as dumbfounded by Cordelia’s behavior. 

Cordelia scrambled up out of bed and stretched as if she had been asleep and not in a coma. Angel took a suspicious look under the pillow, but came up empty on clues before slowly following her. 

“It feels _so_ good to be solid again,” Cordelia said. 

Angel joined the team as they pivoted to watch Cordelia in her odd behavior. 

“Cordelia?” Wesley asked perplexed by this turn of events. “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“When? I’ve been so . . . Oh!” Cordelia said. “You mean the vision downstairs. No, I had a vision, but it’s been taken care of. There was this actress, and a one-armed guy.” They looked at her strangely. “Never mind, it’s a long story. But right now, we have to solve my vision.” 

“The one you just said was taken care of?” Lorne asked confused. 

“No. The one I’m having right now. There is a young man in a park in Glendale. Uh, somewhere near a pond. There is a demon waiting for him. He’s red with four, no make that five horns,” Cordelia explained. 

Angel looked at the others to see if they saw what he was seeing and then looked back at Cordelia. “Um, Cordy?” 

“What?” she asked unknowingly floating about a foot off the ground. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike was sitting on the couch watching TV when a timid knock came at the front door. He groaned as he tossed the remote to the side and got up to answer it. He padded across the cool floor and threadbare hall runners. 

Unlocking the door, he opened it slightly. “Yeah?” 

He focused on his visitor when he didn’t receive an answering greeting to see Buffy standing on his front porch. She looked lost to him and in need of someone to talk to. Before she could say why she was there, he stepped back and allowed her to enter before he shut and locked the door again.


	21. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17 Warning: Mild Spuffy relations.

##  _Chapter 44: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 11)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel was going through the business files again looking for expenditures and other monetary information. He had been fluttering between the file cabinet and manager’s desk. It was starting to drive Cordelia crazy. He still wouldn’t say why Spike left before she came out of her coma. All she knew was that something came up and he went to take care of it. 

“Angel . . .” 

Angel raised a hand to stop her as he continued to calculate numbers in his head. 

“Angel, what are you doing?” Cordelia asked. 

“Business taxes,” Angel mumbled. 

“One, you’ve never had to do taxes in your life. Two, tax season isn’t for another three or four months,” Cordelia said. 

Angel glanced up at her and went back to his figures. “Never too soon to start is it?” Something wasn’t coming out right in his calculations. He got up with papers in hand and walked out the door. She followed him like an insistent gnat. “Wesley, is this right?” 

Wesley glanced up from his many research books to see Angel standing over him with receipts in his hand. This was the first time he had ever seen the dark vampire express a keen interest in the monetary end of the business. 

“You’re acting very strange. First, Spike left unexpectedly without an explanation as to why or where he went and now you have this unnatural interest in the accounting side of our business?” 

“Weren’t you the one that badgered me about charging people to save them?” 

“Yes, but --” 

“We’re moments away,” Fred said from her spot at the reception desk. 

Angel looked over her shoulder at the new website she had designed for Angel Investigations. Gesturing at the ‘No Case Too Small’ under the slogan ‘We Help the Helpless’ part, he said, “Ah, can you make that bigger? Bold . . . but, you know, tasteful.” 

Fred hummed thoughtfully. “Tasteful. Sure.” 

Ever since Spike left, Angel was driving everyone crazy with his maniacal involvement in every aspect of the business. He had rearranged the weapons cabinet three times: first, alphabetical, then by the year they were invented, and lastly by how much damage the weapon could inflict. He had read nearly all of the research books and even bought a few more books from Amazon.com, to brush up on his knowledge of demons, he said. Then, he started on the yearly taxes and was now telling Fred how to do her job. 

“Angel, you’ve been like this for two weeks. I’m glad you want to pitch in and help with the everyday things around here. But, where is Spike? Did you two have a falling out? What happened?” 

“Spike’s gone. He left while you were in a coma. He seems to have better things to do than be here and help us,” Angel replied. 

“I know that. Why did he leave? There had to be something,” Cordelia said as she shadowed him. 

“Look, I’m not the person to ask about Spike. He didn’t tell me anything. Maybe you should ask Gunn or Fred,” Angel said irritated. 

“I’m asking you. You’re mated to him, right?” Cordelia asked. 

“Only in deed apparently,” Angel snapped. “He still has the link shut down between us.” 

“And whose fault is that?” Cordelia accused, walking away from him just as Gunn came in the door. 

“Thank fuck,” Angel groaned. He finally had a reprieve from Cordelia’s third-degree interrogation. He turned to Gunn, “Well?” 

“Well, we hired some guys. There are six thousand of these babies all over town,” Gunn said as he waved a handful of flyers excitedly. The paper read: ‘Angel Investigations’ with the logo on it and ‘We help the helpless. No case too small. Paranormal specialists. 333-555-0126’ underneath. 

“Nice!” Angel said as he showed Cordelia a flyer. “I’d call me, wouldn’t you?” 

Cordelia scoffed, still angry at him over the Spike issue, and walked away. 

“Okay, the website’s up. We’re live!” Fred said. Angel and Gunn went over and looked at the website over her shoulder. Angel grinned as he turned the laptop around to show Wesley who joined them. 

“There, beautiful. We’re online. We got flyers. We’re listed in the yellow pages. Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to a new era of Angel Investigations. All we have to do now is wait for that phone to start ringing and the money to start rolling in.” When nothing happened, Angel went on, “Yep, all we have to do is wait. It’s just a matter of time.” 

“Just wish Spike was here to celebrate with us,” Gunn said offhandedly. 

Angel glowered. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles_**

A man ran through the pouring rain, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds at something looming in the shadows. Scared out of his mind of the thing following him, he ran straight into a pile of trashcans. As he picked himself back up, he spotted one of Angel’s new flyers. 

Flyer in hand, the man ran over to a payphone, dialed the number and listened to it ring. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

The group was waiting for the phone to ring as Angel promised it would . . . any moment now. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles_**

The man continued to listen to the ring until he heard someone pick up and say, “Fabrizio’s Pizza!” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Fred picked up the flyer and took a closer look at it. “Is this the right phone number?” 

Everyone turned to look at Wesley who had created the flyers. He turned on his heel and headed back to the office to fix the mistake. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike sat up in bed and reached over to the nightstand for his cigarettes. Buffy watched as he lit one and took a drag. She never understood the appeal of smoking. Of course she wasn’t thinking about much at the moment as she was still reeling from the effects of her last orgasm. 

She looked at him; mentally comparing the two vampires and what just happened with her first time with Angel on her seventeenth birthday. They were two entirely different experiences altogether. Angel was sweet, tender and loving. Spike was rough and tumble. Angel cared that she was satisfied first before finding his own release. Spike was more concerned with getting his end away than whether she had enjoyed it. 

Buffy looked at her companion, a frown forming on her face. Why was she worried about whether she enjoyed it or not? Angry with the direction her thoughts had taken, she snapped, “Do you think Angel feels anything for you?” 

Spike jerked around somewhat surprised that she was still there. “What are you on about?” 

“Well, you’ve been around him a lot the last couple of years. You even managed to distract him from mourning me when I was dead. I just wondered if you thought he had any actual feeling for you. Has he said anything to you? ’Cause, we both know that I’m the one he really loved,” Buffy said snidely. 

“What goes on between me and Angel is none of your concern, Slayer. What makes you so special anyway?” Spike asked gruffly, picking his jeans up off the floor by the bed and putting them on, secretly pocketing the underwear she had discarded on the floor. 

“I gave him my virginity. We’re soulmates,” Buffy said as if that explained everything. 

Spike looked up from fastening his pants and raised a brow. “You’re virginity?” he mumbled around the cigarette. He gave a dry laugh at that, exhaling puffs of smoke. “Do you have any idea how many girls Angel took their virginity from, even before he became a vampire?” 

Buffy bit her lip, stifling a whine. But Spike could see he had struck a chord by the tears in her eyes. “But I was special. He gave me a ring.” 

“To get you into bed,” Spike laughed. “Let’s not forget: you were an innocent seventeen-year-old just begging for it. I’m sure you were quite the conquest. You were probably the first lay he’d had in a century.” 

Angry, Buffy got up and yanked her clothes on. “I really don’t know why I do this, any of it. You’re not special . . . to either of us. You’re just convenient!” 

“I’m convenient?” Spike scoffed. “Oh please, Slayer, he’s mated to me. Need I remind you that it was you who came looking for me? You’re the one that comes to me, crawls into my bed. Angel should have told me that the only thing better than killing a Slayer would be fucking one.” 

“What?!” Buffy outraged. He ducked the pillow she threw at him. “Is that what this is about for you, doing a slayer?” 

“What else would it be, luv?” He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to blow the smoke out properly. “Your charming demeanor? I wouldn’t be throwing stones or pillows, honey. You seem to be quite the groupie. Wonder what _my mate_ did to tickle your fancy for fucking us? He is quite the thorough lover,” Spike smirked. 

“Shut up,” Buffy said disgusted with him and herself. 

“Just saying . . . vampires get you hot. Tell me, is it the stamina or the fact that we can stay hard for as long as you need it?” 

“ _A_ vampire got me hot. _One_ , but he’s gone,” Buffy said, trying not to cry. 

She didn’t know why she was letting him get to her like this. For some strange reason she had been coming here for the past two weeks hoping for something. She wasn’t sure what it was yet. All she knew was that he did something for her, something she couldn’t put her finger on yet. She hadn’t been able to really concentrate on anything but slaying and whatever this was between them. 

“Yeah, I know just where he’s gone and been,” Spike said nonchalantly with a withering glance in her direction. She looked ready to burst into tears. “You can act as high and mighty as you like, Slayer. But I know where you live now. I can see why Angel lost his soul with you. You were young and untouched. He always did have a taste for virgins. Virgins and nuns, that’s my Sire . . . bonus if they came in the same package, like Drusilla.” 

“Dru is loony,” Buffy said. 

“Yeah, how do you think she got that way, by the grace of God? Angel made her that way.” 

“Not Angel! Angel would never do that. Angelus did that,” Buffy stated adamantly. 

“Angel, Angelus. They are both the same person! Can’t you get that through your head?” 

“Go to hell, Spike,” Buffy snapped as she grabbed her coat and weapons and headed for the door. 

“Always the same, Buffy,” Spike said angrily as he followed her to the door. “You always run away when you hear the truth about your great Angel. He’s not infallible. He’s a vampire who happens to have a soul. Stop fooling yourself into thinking otherwise. I’m tired of this. Get your knickers in a twist and stomp off when it’s something you don’t want to hear. But then you’re back on my doorstep at nightfall, like every night for the past two weeks when you got an itch you can’t scratch. Well, forget it, slayer. I got better things to do than fuck you whenever you show up.” 

Buffy whipped around, her hair swishing in the air. “You have to! Angel sent you here to watch out for me to keep me alive and that means doing anything I want,” she said petulantly. 

Spike barked out a harsh laugh. “Is that what you think, that I came back to fuck you so you’d stay alive? I don’t give a damn about you. You’ve just made yourself available until I figure out what I’m going to do about Angel. Get off that elevated pedestal you jacked yourself up on. Angel’s pretty much over you. Our problems have nothing to do with you, no matter how you want to think otherwise.” 

“You’re bent,” Buffy said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. 

“Yeah, made you scream though, didn’t it? I don’t know what Angel did to you to turn you on to us. But I can guarantee, you haven’t had an earth-shattering orgasm like you’ve experienced the last couple of weeks,” Spike smirked evilly. 

“Ohhh, you’re disgusting!” Buffy said as she yanked the front door open, letting a beam of dawning gray through. 

Spike flicked the ash from his cigarette onto the stone floor near the open door and reached into his pocket, producing the panties he had picked up earlier. “You might want to take these with you. You left them on my bedroom floor again.” 

Buffy scowled and punched him. Smirking, he rubbed the tender area and watched her walk out before slamming the door shut. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled as he went to clean up the bedroom from their last sex-capade. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, the Next Day_**

Wesley walked in with a handful of flyers. “That’s the last of them, six thousand new ones.” When no one acknowledged him, he looked over to see Gunn leaning against the desk,admiring Fred as she busied herself with dusting. His attention was momentarily caught when Angel came in. “I’m sorry about the mix up last night.” 

“It’s not important,” Angel said with a dismissive wave. “But we can’t afford any more mistakes. Making mistakes costs money, and making money right now is our number one priority. Hey Lorne.” 

“Hi Angelcakes, how’s that money-making scheme coming along for you?” Lorne greeted as he came down the stairs in a silk housecoat. 

“Lorne, I need you to use your contacts to find out what Holtz is up to. He’s out there somewhere. We can never forget that. Finding Holtz is our number one priority,” Angel said. 

“I thought you said . . .” Gunn started to comment. 

“Finding Holtz and making money are our two number one priorities,” Angel corrected. Just then Cordelia walked up behind him and cleared her throat. “Helping the helpless, finding Holtz, and making money are our _three_ number one priorities.” 

“Oh, look! We got some hits on our website,” Cordelia said as she scrolled through Angel Investigations new website. At that moment, the phone on her desk rang. 

Wesley picked it up, “Angel Investigations, may I help you?” 

The phone on the reception desk rang as well. Gunn picked it up. “Angel Investigations, can I help you?” 

The phone in the manager’s office rang. Fred dropped her dust rag and ran to answer it. 

Angel smiled, “We’re in business.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Sahjhan’s Underground Lair_**

Justine sat at a small table with Holtz pacing behind her. 

“You should be thanking me,” she said angrily. 

“For disobeying an order?” Holtz asked. 

“For dusting two vamps!” she replied. 

“Two vampires of whom I told you to walk away,” Holtz reminded her. 

“Guess I misunderstood,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Which is why we’re here,” Holtz commented nonchalantly. 

“And speaking of here,” she said flippantly. “Would a couple of light bulbs and indoor plumbing kill you?” 

“We are here to determine whether or not _you_ have the commitment necessary for the work at hand,” Holtz said. 

“At hand? That’s a joke, right?” Justine coughed out a bitter laugh. 

“Why are you wasting my time?” Holtz asked, staring hard at her. 

“What do you want from me?” Justine ground out. 

“I just told you: commitment. Something you must now convince me you have,” Holtz replied. He looked down at the table where her left hand was pinned to the surface with an awl. 

“So, I’ve explained why I’m doing this. Why are you?” Holtz challenged. 

“Let’s just say: feeling something is better than feeling nothing,” Justine whispered. 

“Take it out any time you like,” Holtz said congenially. “If you’re still here when I return, we’ll consider the next phase of our . . . partnership.” 

Justine glared as Holtz walked out and the grate shut behind him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

The lobby was filled to the brim with human and demon clientele. Lorne, Gunn and Wesley were occupied with schmoozing. Cordelia was at her computer inputting vital client information. Fred took a clipboard from one of the demons as Angel walked past her with new client folders. 

“Welcome to Angel Investigations Mr. . .” She glanced at the clipboard, “Blee . . . Lee . . . Shushngrung . . .? Uhm, please have a seat and one of our associates will be right with you.” 

“Hey, Lorne, non-human on deck!” Angel called out. 

“Coming,” Lorne sing-songed. He excused himself from a discussion with three gray aliens wearing robes and silver facemasks in a language that consisted of mostly clicks, whirrs, and popping noises. Stepping up to Angel and Fred, he said, “The guys with the chrome faceplates, they’re called Nahdrahs. I speak their lingo, sort of. If I understand them correctly they’ve got a job for our leader and a great deal of money.” 

“Oh,” Angel perked up at the sound of money. “Let’s not keep them waiting, huh?” 

“Well, our leader in this instance being Wesley. They saw his web articles on DNA fusion comparisons in Tri-ped demon populations,” Lorne corrected. 

Angel glanced over just in time to see Wesley exit the manager’s office with a group of people and flagged him. “Hey, Wes! Wes, talk to the Nahdrahs.” 

Gunn shouldered up to Angel with a young blonde woman in tow. “Hey, is the office free? It’s kind of personal.” 

“Yeah, go,” Angel acknowledged. As Gunn retreated, Angel cocked his head at Fred, “If this keeps up, we may have to incorporate.” 

Cordelia overheard him as she sat at the reception desk with the phone in hand. “We’re getting stretched a little thin here, Angel. We need to either cut down on the caseload or get Spike back here.” 

“Nonsense,” Angel scoffed. “We can handle it.” 

“Really?” Cordelia asked with a brow arched in disbelief. “Well then, why don’t you handle it by picking up lines two, three and four?” 

Angel shrugged and dropped the folders he carried on the desk to answer a line. “Angel Investigations, your problems are our problems. Okay. How urgent is it? Uh-huh. And what do you do for a living? That’s a good company. You own it? Okay, hold on.” He put the receiver down and motioned to Cordelia, “Pen, paper, quick.” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike lay on the couch with a blind eye to the cheesy horror movie on television. He missed Los Angeles and Angel – the ungrateful ponce though his Sire was. But Angel’s first priority was Buffy. He had to watch out for Buffy. But when did looking after the Slayer include fucking her? Sure, he started it because he was upset with his Sire’s treatment of him. Not his mate’s treatment. Angel spent more time in Sire mode than Mate mode. If it was Mate mode, then Spike would be down in Los Angeles helping the team as an equal and not the bloody errant childe of the _former_ Scourge of Europe. He swore that was how Angel saw him most of the time. 

Which was why he was stuck in Sunnydale again: Number one priority was Buffy Summers, Slayer extraordinaire. Except for when she fell for the vampire and refused to kill him, and then finds out that she has another vampire guardian that she can’t kill. He had a little idea of the reason why Buffy came to him so readily now. There was the fact that she’d been dead and Spike was the only one around that knew anything about that. But another part of him felt that she came to him because he’s the closest she would ever get to having Angel back. He was mated to Angel and therefore the next best thing, according to her calculations. 

And the sex was great. Not as fulfilling as was with his mate. But ‘doing a slayer’, as Buffy put it, was something to be fully experienced. Faith was right when she hijacked Buffy’s body and came onto him with that bit about having muscles that would squeeze him until he popped. Spike was surprised that when Angelus resurfaced after Angel had sex with her, he didn’t keep her as a sex slave. He’d known his Sire to keep a slave or two before killing them. Sure, he terrorized them, but they weren’t a project for Angelus like Drusilla was. They were mere playthings to pass the time until he became bored and killed them. 

The reminder made his stomach rumble. Spike glared down at his stomach. He got up and went to the kitchen to get some blood. He had a fresh batch of it delivered from the blood bank last night. He had just taken the lid off the container and about to take a drink when the banging from his front door distracted him. He put the jar down and went to the foyer to inspect the noise. He shaded his from the bright sunlight flooding the entrance hall from the wide open door, but no one else was there. 

Skirting around the light, he closed the door and gave the space a cursory glance as he called out, “Whatever beastie you are, I know you’re here and I hurt beasties.” 

Spike carefully moved to the living room, looking around the corners and then turning in a circle trying to find the source. He could feel something in the room with him. He jumped when something grabbed his jean-clad ass. 

“Hey, watch it!” Spike growled. 

The noise from the TV suddenly stopped and the television switched off by itself. 

Spike gave an irritated sigh. “A ghost is it?” He continued to search for the source. “Go and haunt the living like a good spook.” 

He looked around confused. Maybe Angel found some magics to play a trick on him. His Sire was about due for a follow-up like every other time Spike left him before. 

Suddenly, something grabbed his shoulder. He tried to grab it, but the invisible object spun him around by the arm and slammed him up against a wall. He gasped at the force of impact and tried to move forward but the imperceptible entity shoved him back again. Then, it ripped his shirt open and he stared down at his own bare chest. 

Spike frowned at the turn of events then gasped in pleasure. In a tentative tone, he asked, “Angel?” 

“Wrong answer,” Invisible!Buffy replied before yanking him away from the wall and flinging him onto the couch. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel walked into the lobby, which was deserted except for some papers strewn around and Cordelia and Fred sprawled on the settee. They were on a much needed break after the day they experienced. 

“Is this country great or what?” Angel called out, excitedly waving a check in the air. “Five thousand smackeroos and all I have to do to collect five thousand more, is clean out a vamp nest downtown. Where are Wes and Gunn? I want to show them this before I frame it.” 

“Out on a case,” Cordelia replied tiredly. 

“There was a young woman whose dead boyfriend is stalking her,” Fred filled in. 

“That’s terrible,” Angel said sincerely. “Did you . . .” 

“I ran her credit. She’s solvent,” Cordelia cut in. 

Angel nodded. Things were working out great on the business front. Now if his love life would just follow suit. He had tried the link between him and Spike many times but it was like hitting a brick wall. All he received for his troubles was a giant headache. 

“Angel,” Cordelia’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to be working on so many cases at once. I mean what if we’re all out making money and some poor devil stumbles in here and needs our help? It’s not like Spike’s here to pitch in since you drove him away.” 

“I didn’t --” Angel started to deny her accusation when Lorne stumbled in the door. 

“Bon giorno, everybody, bon giorno,” Lorne greeted drunkenly. 

“Have you been drinking?” Angel asked, surprised at the empath’s stupor. 

Lorne waved him off. “Never fear, angel food cake, I can hold my liquor. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for my firewater.” He burst into a fit of giggles. 

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Fred asked. 

“Hey, Fred-girl! No, this is special firewater, used to loosen the tongue of my Gar-wak snitch. They light the water on fire and there’s chanting and a bong, and look out, Houston!” Lorne said, waving his arms. 

“Did you learn anything about Holtz?” Angel inquired. 

“Oh yeah,” Lorne nodded. “He is _really_ not fond of you. I’m led to believe that he and his Grapplar demons had plans to,” He gestured with a slicing motion of his finger along his neck, “you. Is my breath stinky?” He exhaled in Angel’s direction. 

Angel leaned back and closed his eyes as he fanned the air in front of his face. “Yeah. Holtz is using the Grapplars as soldiers.” 

Lorne shook his head. “Not anymore. He poisoned them and he’s looking for replacements. Humans.” 

“Do we know where he is?” Angel asked. 

“Bro, I’m on it,” Lorne said. “I’ve got rats looking all over this town. Well, not actual rats – except two of them. Oh, God, I don’t feel so good.” 

Angel noticed the Nahdrah’s walk in behind Lorne, clicking away as soon as they entered. 

“Lorne? It’s all snap, crackle, pop to me,” Cordelia commented. 

“These are the guys that wanted Wesley,” Angel filled in. 

“Not anymore,” Lorne corrected. “Now they want Fred.” 

“For what?” 

Lorne clicked the question to the Nahdrahs then turned back to Angel when he got an answer, “Her enormous brain. They’re convinced she can solve the puzzle they want to give to their prince.” Addressing Fred, he said, “They weren’t offended by you before, they were impressed.” 

“Really?” Fred asked surprised. 

“Where would she have to go and how long would it take?” Angel asked anxiously. 

Lorne had a clicking conversation with the Nahdrahs and then said, “They live on a barge, currently docked in the marina. And a day or two depends on how long it takes her to solve the puzzle.” 

“Are you game?” Angel asked Fred. 

Fred shrugged, “Sure.” 

“You’ll have to go with her to translate,” Angel ordered. “Tell them it won’t be cheap. They’re getting two of our top employees. That’s salary, per diem, overtime . . .” 

“Okay, okay,” Lorne said, holding up his hands in placation. He clicked Angel’s terms to the Nahdrahs. One of them lifted a metal suitcase up. Lorne translated, “They apologize for their paltry offering and hope you’ll accept,” The Nahdrahs opened the case to reveal bundles of cash. “FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!?!” 

“Fifty . . .” Angel echoed. 

“. . . Thousand . . .” Cordelia echoed. 

“ . . . Dollars?” Fred finished. 

Angel hurried to grab the suitcase before the Nahdrahs could change their minds. “We accept! Fred, good luck!” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Night_**

Xander knocked on the door even as he opened it. He didn’t like dealing with Spike on any level. Spike was no different than the vampires who had killed his friend Jesse. The only thing that made Angel palatable was that he had a soul, but only _just_. It wasn’t like he and Angel were ever best buds or anything. Personally, he didn’t see whatever Buffy saw in the blood sucker, no matter how spiky and gelled his hair was or how deeply brooding, chocolate pools his eyes were. He rejoiced openly when Angel left town for good. Spike was a necessary evil. The group had to deal with him when they needed the muscle, or when they lost a member of the team . . . like now. 

Buffy had literally disappeared earlier. She was still in town, but invisible. She had left Xander and Anya to research her latest predicament. Then, Anya discovered that the road pylon that had been made invisible along with Buffy was disintegrating. Xander immediately went to look for her. Willow didn’t know where she was or even that she had gone “missing”. So, here he was at Spike’s mansion, hoping that the blood-sucking menace would help. 

Upon entering the mansion, Xander looked around for Spike only to see the living room in disarray. The moonlight showing through the high windows revealed the couch cushions were askew. The coffee table was cockeyed. There was a disaster trail leading down the hall to Spike’s bedroom. 

“Spike?” Xander called out. 

The sounds of moaning and heavy breathing could be heard, the closer he came to Spike’s bedroom door. He pushed the door open a Victorian bedroom lit only by the lamp on the nightstand by the bed. In bed was Spike, his lower body covered by the sheet and he looked to be humping empty air. 

“Spike?” Xander inquired, confused by the sight. The blonde vampire whipped around in alarm to look at him. “What are you doing?” 

“What am I . . .?” Spike was at a loss for a response to that. He had to think of something quick and the only thing that came to mind was, “What does it look like I’m doing, you nit? I’m exercising, aren’t I?” 

In demonstration, Spike turned back to the bed and acted out a couple of push-ups. There was a small, surprised squeak from Invisible!Buffy. 

“Exercising,” Xander said skeptically, “Naked . . . in bed?” 

Spike stopped, stood up on the bed and wrapped the sheet around his waist before turning to face Xander. “A man shouldn’t use immortality as an excuse to let himself go; got to keep fit for the killing. Otherwise you end up looking like Angel.” He sat on the end of the bed facing the boy. 

“Yuh-huh,” Xander said skeptically. Gesturing to the door, he added, “Looks like you had a little trouble in the living room. Whole place looks like a mini-disaster area.” 

Spike’s brows drew together in annoyance. “You came in here to criticize my housekeeping?” 

“No, uh, not really,” Xander stammered before getting to the reason behind his visit, “I’m looking for Buffy.” 

“Haven’t seen her,” Spike announced all-too-quickly. 

Taken aback by the reply, Xander said, “Well, uh, you wouldn’t. Fact is: she’s come down with a slight case of invisibility.” 

Spike looked appropriately surprised by that. “Yeah? How did, uh . . .” 

“We don’t know that yet,” Xander replied with a strange look on his face as he watched Spike jump as if someone or something was trying to push him off the bed. “Anyway, she’s not at the house, and I really, really need to find her.” 

By this point, Spike had started to fidget as if he were nervous. “Uh, tell you what, I’ll . . . take a peek around first chance I get . . .” He swatted at something near his head, “. . . And if we bump into each other, I’ll clue her that you’re on the lookout.” 

Xander looked at him, skeptical of his odd behavior. “After your . . . exercises.” 

“Yeah, right,” Spike said as he continued to swat at something around his neck. 

Xander turned to the leave the bedroom, but looked back. He shook his head again and walked out. 

When Spike heard the slam of the front door, he sighed and looked over his shoulder, “That was bloody stupid.” 

“What’s the matter? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” Invisible!Buffy asked in a mocking tone. 

Spike scoffed as he got up, tossing the sheet aside. It fell on top of Buffy, revealing the outline of her legs and hips. 

“Come on,” she whined. “He had no idea I was here. This is perfect.” 

Spike walked out of the room, naked. He returned a few minutes later with a tumbler glass in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. “Perfect for you, you mean.” 

“Well, picture me confused,” Invisible!Buffy said. Spike shook his head at the lame joke before he took a drink and swallowed hard. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“No, it’s not what I want!” Spike yelled, angrily tossing his glass and shattering it against the stone wall. “What I want . . .” He let out an annoyed sigh. “What I want isn’t here. Don’t kid yourself, Buffy. We both know what we’re doing isn’t anything more than a sexual release. My life – or what I thought was my life – is in L.A. and I’ve been transferred here until my _mate_ pardons me and lets me go back home.” 

“Well, until then, you’re stuck here and we can have some fun in the meantime,” Buffy said airily. 

“This vanishing act’s right liberating for you, isn’t it? Go anywhere you want. Do anything you want – or anyone,” Spike ground out. 

Buffy was taken aback by his attitude. “What are you talking ab--?” 

“The only reason you’re here is that you’re not here,” Spike pointed out. 

“Right, of course,” Buffy said sarcastically. “As usual there’s something wrong with Buffy. She came back all wrong.” She shifted on the bed. “You know, I didn’t ask for this to happen to me.” 

Taking a swig from the bottle, Spike commented, “Not too put off by it though, are you?” 

“No! I’m not,” Buffy stated. “Because for the first time since . . . I’m free!” She tossed the sheet aside. Spike looked around trying to figure out where she was headed. “Free of rules and reports . . . free of this life.” 

Spike raised a brow at that. “Free of life? I’ve got another name for that: Dead. Are you so gung ho about joining Angel that you’d risk your life for it?” 

“You risked your life for being undead, why can’t I?” she asked. 

“That was different. It was in a different time and place. Circumstances were wildly different. And when did you live your life according to my example anyway?” Spike argued. Damn Angel for making her fall in love with him. For that matter, damn Buffy for thinking the sun rises and sets on his Sire. 

“Why do you always have to . . .” Buffy’s voice took on a plaintive tone. “I thought we were having fun.” She tried to wrap herself around him, but Spike grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. 

“Yeah, now! But sooner or later your chums are going work out a way to bring you back to living color.” He released her. “You need to go. Get dressed if you can find your clothes, and push off. ’Cause I’ve got better things to do than --” He lost his train of thought and looked down to watch his dick disappear into nothing only to feel a warm, wet tongue. “Okay, that’s cheating.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia stood at her desk, counting the money they received from the Nahdrahs. “There are some things in this world that are so cool. Fifty grand is way up there on the list,” she said to herself as she added the stack of bills to the other money in the briefcase. “Just going to lock this up in the safe and . . . Right after this vision.” 

Just then, the beginnings of a vision started. They had gotten easier to bear since she had become part demon. There were blurry images of Fred solving the puzzle that the Nahdrahs elected her for. The image shifted to that of the prince she was doing it for, and the laptop screen and finally of the knife coming at Fred. 

“Oh God, Fred,” Cordelia said to herself, “Don’t solve that puzzle.” 

Cordelia immediately called Wesley’s phone and then Gunn’s, but neither answered. She wished Spike was there. It was things like this where the blonde vampire could have been a real help. Something happened though and he left. Angel still refused to tell her what that was. According to Gunn, Spike had gotten a call to go back to Sunnydale; Buffy had done something stupid that required Spike’s attention. If it was a simple thing, then Spike should be back by now. But he hadn’t returned. 

“Well, I’m just going to have to go down to the marina myself, return the money and explain that it was all a big mistake.” She hung up the phone, closed and locked the briefcase before heading out of the hotel with it. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Marina_**

Fred slid the last piece of the puzzle into place and the glass pyramid she had formed lit up. The Nahdrahs around her clicked their approval and excitement. Fred blushed at what she could only assume was praise as she removed her glasses. 

“Oh, it was nothing,” she said. The Nahdrahs took hold of her and pulled her along. “Oh, are we going to celebrate?” She asked hopefully even though she doubted they understood her. “Say, has anyone seen my friend with the horns? He wasn’t feeling so good and I’m a little worried about him.” Just then, they entered another room and Fred noticed Lorne lying on the floor, tied up. She became nervous at her situation. “And me now.” 

“Yeah, I know. We’re in a bit of a situation here,” Lorne acknowledged. 

The Nahdrahs pushed Fred down into a high-backed chair across from their prince and closed the clamps to hold her in place. 

“Oh God!” Fred cried. “I don’t have to marry him, do I?” 

“In fact, no, and that’s something we can be grateful for,” Lorne assured her. 

“What are they going to do?” Fred asked anxiously. 

“Well, it seems the prince’s head – or heads, I should say – wear out every so often, and they uh . . .” Lorne started to explain. 

“Cut off someone else’s and give a new one?” Fred finished for him. 

“Uh, ah . . .” Lorne stammered as he craned his neck trying to see what was going on. 

When one of the Nahdrahs raised a machete threateningly at Fred, she screamed, “Lorne, help! Help!” 

A high-pitched whistle stopped all motion. Everyone turned to see Cordelia standing in the doorway holding the money. 

“Hey! I’d just like a word here,” she said calmly. 

“Oh-ho-ho,” Lorne said excitedly. He’d never been so happy to see anyone in his life. The feeling caused him to heckle his captors, “You guys are _so_ going to get your butts kicked!” 

“Lorne!” Cordelia snapped agitated. 

He nodded. “Sorry. I yield the floor to the person _not_ tied up on it.” 

“I need you to translate. Tell them that there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. I know you’re men of honor and I know we can make a simple exchange – in a-a civilized manner.” 

When Lorne just started at her, she glared at him and nodded towards the Nahdrahs. Lorne immediately started to click away to the alien race. Cordelia set the briefcase on the floor at her feet. 

“We return your gracious gift and you give us back Fred. Sorry about the confusion, but we kind of need her head at work,” Cordelia said. 

“Firmly attached to her body,” Fred added. 

“That goes without saying,” Cordelia agreed. When Lorne just stared at her, she hissed at him, “Say it!” 

“Oh, uh . . .” Lorne turned to the Nahdrahs and clicked the translation. They replied with raised weapons. “I told them what they had to do, and then told them what would happen if they didn’t do it.” 

“Lorne, we’re in no position to be threatening these nice people,” Cordelia chastised Lorne with a tight smile. 

“Oh, sure we are,” Lorne said. “Angel, Wes, and Gunn can take ’em! I can’t see them from down here. Where are they anyway?” 

“Out making money,” Cordelia replied through clenched teeth. 

Lorne gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, so when I told them that they were surrounded by killer warriors, I was stretching the truth a little?” 

Just enough to get us all killed,” Cordelia said with a big smile. “Lorne, do these guys have groins?” 

Fred glared at Cordelia. “Is that really important right now?” 

“Work with me here,” Cordelia replied. 

“I think so. I never knew one intimately,” Lorne said. 

Cordelia stepped forward and kicked one of the Nahdrahs between the legs. There was a metal clanging sound and Cordelia let out a silent scream from the painful connection of her foot with the metal body. She hopped back on one foot, falling backward through the curtain. A second later, she was rushed back in, braced by Wesley and Gunn, who proceeded to attack the Nahdrahs. 

A Nahdrah standing close to Fred held the blade of his machete against her throat and she screamed at the top of her lungs. 

“Fred! Help her!” Cordelia barked. 

Both Wesley and Gunn popped up out of the fight and cried in unison, “Fred!” 

Gunn grabbed a metal rod while Wesley grabbed the suitcase of money. The hurled both at the Nahdrahs. The rod knocked the Nahdrah wielding the machete backwards, away from Fred. The suitcase decapitated the aging prince before it burst open upon hitting the wall. Everything came to a stop as the Nahdrahs stared at their headless leader. 

“Well, I guess when you cut off the snake’s head . . .” Gunn trailed off. 

All the Nahdrahs started to click and raised their weapons. 

“You piss the other snakes off,” Wesley finished. 

Suddenly Wesley and Gunn went down under the attack. Then, the skylight broke and Angel dropped in on them, joining the fight. While Angel fought the Nahdrahs still working off the anger he built up over dealing with the last case he was on, Wesley and Gunn worked on freeing Fred. 

Cordelia joined Angel, fighting back to back. In the melee, Angel said over his shoulder, “I should have listened to you!” 

“Well . . . yeah,” Cordelia agreed. 

“I should have never left you guys like that,” Angel continued as he punched out the last opponent. 

“Well, yeah,” Cordelia agreed again. 

Wesley and Gunn helped Fred out of the chair. 

“If you can keep your head when those around you are losing theirs, I guess you’re pretty lucky,” Fred quipped. “I could kiss you both.” 

Wesley and Gunn were about to take her up on the offer when Lorne cleared his throat. They all looked down at him. 

“Uh, still tied up down here,” Lorne said. The three of them proceeded to untie him. 

Cordelia and Angel stood back and watched until Angel had a moment of realization. “Guys, can I say something?” He glanced at the pile on money on the floor. “Money’s important, but it isn’t everything. I got . . . I got carried away. I just,” He glanced at Cordelia standing beside him. “I never had friends and human lives dependent on me before. But that’s no excuse.” He looked at the money again. “Where was I?” 

“Money’s not the most important . . .” Cordelia said. 

“No, it’s not,” Angel reaffirmed more for himself than the others. “What’s important is family . . . and the mission.” 

After a beat, Cordelia said, “They tried to cut Fred’s head off. We earned every penny.” 

All of a sudden everyone but Cordelia was gathering the money off the floor and stuffed in it their pockets. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“I’m just suggesting that we get a boat . . . a yacht,” Cordelia said as she followed Angel into the hotel with Wesley, Gunn and Fred behind her. 

Angel had the briefcase full of money that Cordelia and Fred had repacked in the car on the ride back. A few bills had flown out the window once or twice. Angel stopped the car and made one of them get out and collect the stray greenback. 

“No. This is to pay our bills and the mortgage on the hotel,” Angel said. 

“Fine, we’ll pay our bills and the mortgage and then put a _down payment_ on the boat,” Cordelia amended. 

“We’re not getting a boat,” Angel said. 

“Why not? They’re fun,” Cordelia wasn’t giving up. 

“Because they’re expensive and when would I go on this boat, hmm?” Angel said as he locked the money in the safe. 

“Moonlight sails,” Cordelia offered. “I bet Spike would find it romantic.” Angel glowered at her. She threw up her hands. “Okay, pay the bills and then rent a ski condo in Aspen.” 

“A ski condo?” Angel raised a brow. 

“There’s got to be some kind of fun in our lives,” Cordelia pouted. 

“Hmm,” Angel thought about it. The image of Spike impersonating a snow bunny in the ski condo popped into his head. A naked Spike in the ski condo by a roaring fire. “I like a ski condo.” 

“Well, sure you would. Snow, trees . . . chipmunks robots on ice,” Cordelia said. 

Angel was still imagining naked Spike spread out on the rug in front of the fire inside the ski condo. He barely caught the mention of . . . “Chipmunks robots on ice?” 

Cordelia gave him a huge grin that reminded of the girl she used to be when he first met up with her in L.A. Shaking his head, he said, “Excuse me guys. There’s something I have to do.” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike was in the process of cleaning up the latest disaster from Buffy’s last visit when his phone rang. He let it ring as he righted the couch, the cushions and the coffee table before he answered it. 

“Hullo?” 

“Spike?” 

“Yeah, pouf, what’d ya want?” Spike asked as he continued to clean up while balancing the phone. 

“I . . . well, I just,” Angel stammered then admitted quietly, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Well, you heard it, now get off the line. I might be expecting a phone call or something,” Spike commented sardonically. 

“Please Spike, just for a few minutes?” If Spike didn’t know any better, he’d think Angel’s voice had a desperate tone it. “Maybe you could catch me up on how things are going there? Everyone’s okay here. Fred kept her head and everything.” 

That got Spike’s attention. “What do you mean ‘Fred kept her head’? What’s going on down there? Why is it that whenever I leave, you put the girls in harm’s way?” 

“Uh,” Angel sounded a little guilty about what happened with Fred. “It was nothing we couldn’t handle. It was just some stuff with a demon clan needing her to figure out a . . . a puzzle. You know, math and stuff.” 

“Yeah, well she’s good at that kind of thing,” Spike replied. 

There was a long pause. Spike thought Angel would never speak again, just stay on the line with him. He fell back on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table, getting comfortable. If he was going to be on the phone all night listening to Angel _not_ breathe into the receiver . . . 

“So, pouf, talk: how are things in L.A.?” Spike prompted. 

“About the same, you know? Killing demons, making money,” Angel replied. 

There was another pause, longer than the one before. He could hear Angel shift uncomfortably and then there was a beleaguered sigh. When it seemed like Angel wouldn’t be forthcoming, Spike spoke. 

“Listen Angel, it’s been great catching up with you. But if you don’t have anything more to say then I’ve got better things to do than sit here. Do you need something? Is there a new demon that needs researching? Course you got Percy and Fred there to take care of that stuff.” 

“No, nothing like that,” Angel assured him. “The weather is pretty nice here though. You know, sunny and all – except at night, when it’s dark, you know?” 

“Okay, that’s it! I’m hanging up,” Spike replied. He was about to push the power button on his phone when he heard Angel’s outcry. 

“Wait, Spike! Don’t hang up yet.” 

“Then, start talking, Angel,” Spike sounded irritated. 

“I, uhm, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you, a lot,” Angel said softly. “That’s it. I just miss you.” 

“Yeah?” Spike inquired. “I guess I sort of miss you too. That is if I admitted that sort of thing. But, it’s only sometimes, when I’m not busy with my babysitting schedule. She’s a handful these days with being back from the dead and all. She still hasn’t accepted it completely. I can’t afford to be mushy. It goes against my Big Bad image.” 

“Me neither I guess,” Angel conceded. “Maybe if things stay quiet down here I could come up to see you? Or you could come down here.” 

Spike smirked into the phone. It sounded like a stumbling attempt at Angel trying to apologize to him. “I suppose. _If_ things stay quiet that it might be okay. I’ve have to check the schedule and make sure there aren’t any apocalypses and the like planned, you know? Clear my calendar.” 

“That’d be nice,” Angel said optimistically. “I guess I should hang up now. See you soon, Spike.” 

Spike smirked as he hung up. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that phone call was Angel’s way of apologizing for what happened between them. Of course, he wouldn’t say anything to his Sire. Can’t have the old man thinking Spike would forgive him that easily. Things could be looking up, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath over it. He’d have to see how it worked itself out. 

Spike put the phone on the end table beside the couch and turned the TV on. For the first time in weeks, he felt calmer.


	22. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 45: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 12)_

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_**

Spike walked into the kitchen in a pair of jeans and an open button-down shirt, smoking a cigarette. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a container of blood, poured himself a glass and popped the glass in the microwave. Once it was heated, he added a pinch of burba weed from a jar and picked up the glass to drink. He paused with glass half raised to answer his chirping phone. He snapped it off his waistband and hit a button. 

“Y’ello.” 

“S-spike?” a timid voice asked. 

“Fred? Is everything okay?” 

“Y-yeah, uh, yeah. Things are fine here. Everything’s fine,” Fred assured him. 

“Okay then . . . why are you calling, pet?” 

“I-I just thought that maybe if that thing you left to take care of was, well . . . taken care of . . . if you want to come back?” Fred asked. 

“Is something wrong down there? Need some extra muscle, luv?” Spike asked as he drank his blood. 

“Yes . . . I mean no. Nothing’s wrong. We just miss you and want you to come back.” 

“Did Angel put you up to this?” 

“No. No! Angel doesn’t even know I called you. But, he misses you.” 

“Sure, pet. I bet he does. I’m sure he’s all broken up about me being up here,” Spike said and commented more to himself, “Surprised he took time out of his schedule . . .” 

“Spike, please?” Fred beseeched. 

Spike let out a put upon sigh. “Fine. I’ll come down for a visit. Nothing’s going on up here that the Slayer can’t handle herself anyway.” 

“Okay,” Fred said excitedly and then more sedately, “Okay. Well, we’ll see you when you get here.” 

“Sure thing, pet,” Spike smirked. 

Spike shut the phone off. He drank the rest of his blood as he walked around the house shutting things off, preparing to lock the house up until he came back to Sunnydale. Washing the glass out, he put it back in the cupboard. Then, he grabbed the rest of his blood supply, packed an overnight bag and his weapons. When he opened the door to leave, Buffy stood at the threshold with her hand out to turn the knob. 

“Hey, Spike. It’s my birthday. I thought we’d celebrate,” she said. 

“Sorry, pet. I can’t fuck you tonight. You’ll have to use your trusty vibrator. I gotta go,” Spike said as he bundled her out of the way and locked the door. 

Buffy pouted at the brush off. “You have to go? Go where? I wore the panties you love so much and everything.” 

“Sorry, Slayer, have to go back to L.A., duty calls. But, tell you what . . . use that ribbed vibrator buried in your nightstand drawer and have a very good, earth-shattering orgasm while imagining it’s me.” 

With that, he squeezed her shoulder in acknowledgement. Throwing his things in the Desoto, Spike slid behind the wheel and spun out as he backed out of the driveway, leaving Buffy to stare after him. 

Buffy looked around confused that she found herself on Spike’s doorstep. The sound of the Desoto was long gone. Angry at herself for how she was behaving around the bleached blonde vampire, she stomped away from the house and headed for her own abode. 

“I don’t believe this,” Buffy seethed to herself. “He threw _me_ out. I didn’t even make it into the house and he threw _me_ out. Did I like fall into some . . . backward dimension here? Is this Bizarro World? Even Angel wouldn’t --” She thought about her last time in L.A. “Okay, so maybe he would. But, those were totally different circumstances. And after he’s always going on and on about being the only one that understands me – Spike, not Angel. ‘We’re alike: you and me,’ he says. ‘Birds of a _bloody_ feather,’ he says. Uh! He’s so . . .” She exhaled an annoyed sigh. Just then, a vampire came out of nowhere. “I don’t have time for you. Can’t you see I’m having a crisis moment here?” Instinctively, she staked it without blinking and walked through the exploding dust. “Insensitive!” she said finally deciding on a word that best described Spike in her opinion. “That’s what he is: an insensitive, irritating, annoying vampire.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley sat at the reception desk with a book in front of him open to a picture of a demon. However, he had forgone researching for staring at Fred as she busied herself while waiting for Spike to arrive. 

“Honestly, have you ever seen anything lovelier?” Wesley asked no one in particular. “So graceful, so full of life . . . and those eyes . . . make you feel like you’re the only man in the room.” 

Just then, Cordelia walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder, “Plus six breasts. Any man is going to love that.” 

“Fred doesn’t have six breasts!” Wesley countered and then thought about it. “Right?” 

Cordelia wrote on her notepad, replying, “Sorialus the Ravager, and yeah, she’s the one from my vision.” 

“Coming to destroy the humans that killed her mate,” Wesley recited from the entry. 

“But not for another month or so. I’ll file her under ‘pending.’” Cordelia said as she made a notation on her notepad. “Are you going to ask her out?” 

“The Ravager?” Wesley asked confused. 

“Fred,” Cordelia clarified. 

“Oh. Yes. But, you know . . . timing. I’ll make my move when I feel the iron is hot,” Wesley said. 

“Well, get it done, Johnny Reb,” Cordelia said as she smacked him on the shoulder. “So I can hear about something else and you can do something else besides feeling your hot iron.” 

“Am I very boring on the subject?” Wesley asked worriedly. 

“You know, there was a time when you thought I was the loveliest thing in the world,” Cordelia said forlornly. 

“Well, I . . . you’re an extraordinary woman,” Wesley stammered. Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “I . . .” 

Cordelia smirked as she watched him squirm for an explanation for a moment. Raising a placating hand, she shrugged. “At ease, soldier. Just like to hear it every now and then. I was the ditziest bitch in Sunnydale. I could have had any man I wanted. Now, I’m all superhero-y and the best action I can get is an invisible ghost who’s good with a Loohfah.” 

She quickly turned from filing away her notes to look sheepishly at Wesley. The former watcher caught her eye for half a moment then looked down at his book. 

“I’m sorry. I must have missed that last part,” Wesley commented dryly. 

Cordelia flushed. “You _are_ a gentleman.” 

“Who’s doing what with the Loohfah?” a British accent asked. 

Everyone turned at the sound of the voice and the slamming of the door to see Spike standing on the entrance stairs. Fred squealed as she and Cordelia dropped everything and ran over to him. He was nearly flattened by the two females who collided bodily into him. 

“Spike! What are you doing here? I thought you were staying away indefinitely,” Cordelia said excitedly. 

“Missed you, too, Princess,” Spike said wryly. “Fred called and demanded I come down here.” 

Fred blushed and stepped back, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t really demand that you come down. I just figured you were bored up there and thought you could come down here . . . I’ll just shut up now.” 

“Hey, Spike, you’re back man,” Gunn commented as he jogged up the steps to meet the blonde vampire. “Is everything taken care of up in Sunny-D?” 

“Yeah, hysterical women,” Spike chuckled and shrugged. “Bloody Slayer had a dream and thought she killed a human. I think it’s that time of the month or something.” 

There was uncomfortable cough in the lobby. “Spike. How nice to see you again. Are you staying for a while?” Wesley asked as he joined them. 

“Don’t even know why I’m here to tell you the truth, Percy.” 

“Oh right. We have to hide him,” Fred said. 

“Hide me from what?” Spike asked confused. He gazed between the two girls as they shared conspiratorial glances with each other. By the look that passed between Fred and Cordelia, he should have known it was a setup. They had something planned and Fred conned him into coming down. Not that it took any kind of arm twisting when it came to Fred with him. He didn’t know what was going on, but if it ever happened again he was going to interrogate her before relenting. 

“Come on,” Fred said as she and Cordelia each grabbed a wrist and pulled him along. 

“Oh, bro. This is sad. They kidnapped you to be their Ken doll. That’s so wrong,” Gunn said in mock sympathy. 

“I told Wesley I needed something fun to do,” Cordelia winked and smiled at Gunn before dragging Spike off. 

Spike glanced at Gunn over his shoulder and mouthed, “Help!” just before he was hauled out of sight. 

Seconds later, Angel burst through the door like the Dark Avenger Cordelia tried to market him as in the beginning of their partnership. All that was missing was the billowing cape. He had to make due with the billowing trench coat. He was also wearing a huge grin. 

“I see you went with dark clothes today,” Wesley commented upon seeing the vampire. 

“Ask me why I’m smiling,” Angel said excitedly. 

“I will, because it seems detrimental to my existence,” Wesley replied. 

Angel pulled a handful of tickets out of his back pocket and held them up. “ _We_ are stepping out.” 

“So, are those the tickets I _suggested_ you get,” Gunn asked, gesturing to Angel’s fistful of tickets. 

Angel had the grace to look distressed. “Well, I got to the ticket place and . . .” 

“I’m paying you back. This one’s on me,” Gunn said eagerly. “Mahta Hari is the tightest band in L.A. You guys are gonna be trippin’ out.” 

“The only thing is . . .” Angel started to say again. 

Gunn put a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “Look, I said I’m good for it, man. Don’t have to worry about dippin’ into the savings.” He snatched the tickets away from Angel. “The time I saw Mahta Hari at the Troubadour they were the –” He read the name on the tickets. “Blinnikov World Ballet Tour. What’s going on?” 

“I was trying to tell you,” Angel said as he took the tickets back. “I got to the ticket place and boom! It’s for tonight only!” 

“But – you got ballet on my Mahta Hari tickets,” Gunn pouted. 

“This is the Blinnikov World Ballet Corps,” Angel stressed. 

“He’s saying that like it has meaning,” Gunn addressed Wesley while he stared at the vampire as if he didn’t recognize him. 

“This is one of the premiere companies in the world. And they’re doing **_Giselle_**! It’s their signature piece!” Angel said adamantly. 

“This is all like some horrible dream,” Gunn sounded lost. 

“I think I’ve heard of them. They were very ahead of their time,” Wesley commented. 

“Oh, yeah,” Angel replied. “I saw their production of **_Giselle_** in eighteen-ninety. I cried like a baby, and I was evil!” 

“I think it sounds exciting!” Fred said as she came back with Cordelia, sans Spike. 

“Yes,” Wesley suddenly sounded agreeable upon hearing Fred enter the room. 

“No. No! This is _not_ Mahta Hari!” Gunn protested. “This is tutus, and guys with their big-ass packages jumping up and down. This is just . . .” He glared at Angel. “I will never trust you again. The trust is gone.” 

“Oh, get over it,” Cordelia said, waving Gunn off. “Do we get dressed up?” 

“Of course,” Angel said simply. 

“I’m in,” Cordelia said. 

“Guys, seeing the real ballet live it’s . . .” Angel closed his eyes and sighed at a memory of the ballet from the past. “It’s like another world.” He opened his eyes and looked at Gunn. “These guys are tight, and you’re going to be trippin’ out.” 

Gunn scoffed, “Don’t be using my own phrases when we lost the trust.” 

“Come on, guys. Working day, cases to solve,” Cordelia said. 

“Okay. But I’m not still paying, right?” Gunn asked. “Because this is . . . this is . . . it’s like a nightmare.” 

**************************

Somehow Cordelia and Fred snuck Spike out of the hotel without Angel finding out. They had left him with Lorne earlier before they found out that Angel was planning to go to the ballet. The two girls just thought they’d surprise Angel, but when the ballet came into play, they decided to use the opportunity to their advantage and told Lorne to find something snappy for Spike to wear to the ballet. 

When Spike discovered their plan, he protested in his own fashion and tried digging his heels in. However, he was no match for two determined ladies on a mission and caved soon after they started hen-pecking at him. What did it say about a badass vampire when he succumbed to the wiles of women, and human ones at that? 

So, here Spike was in one of the many vacant rooms that weren’t Angel’s bedroom with Lorne brushing lint off his black, rented tuxedo. Thank God he didn’t have a mirror. He hated tuxedos. He made it his mission in life to steer clear of anything looking like a suit since 1920. Now he was stuck in one. He probably looked horrendous in this outfit. 

“Stop fidgeting, vanilla dumpling,” Lorne said as he moved around him to inspect his handiwork. 

“Vanilla dumpling?” Spike echoed. He’d heard Lorne call Angel every pastry name in the cookbook that sounded good with the word ‘angel’ and even a few that didn’t. However, he’d never heard a confection endearment applied to him before. 

Lorne shrugged as he smoothed the wrinkles out of the tuxedo and stepped back. “Absolutely gorgeous, Spike. Angel’s going to die again when he sees you in this. In fact, I’d almost feel better that I had to give up my ticket to see a world-renowned ballet corps to witness Angel’s reaction to you.” 

“He’s seen me in a suit before, mate. I didn’t dress up for him. Cordelia threatened to dust me if I didn’t wear this thing. It’s bloody ridiculous. What was wrong with my regular clothes?” Spike scoffed as he glanced down at his attire in distaste. 

“You cannot show up to the ballet in jeans and a ratty old duster. They’d never let you within fifty feet of the place,” Lorne explained. 

“Didn’t want to go anyway,” Spike grumbled. “Fred tricked me into this.” 

“Sure you do,” Lorne contradicted. “I heard you humming. You’ve missed Angel as much as he has missed you. You’re just looking forward to this ballet. Planning to relive old times, hmm?” 

Spike’s eyes narrowed on the Pylean demon. “Were you reading me?” 

“It’s a hazard of the gift from my people,” Lorne shrugged. “More to the point: Angel?” 

“What about him?” Spike asked curtly. 

“He feels the same way about you. He’s just as anxious about this night as you are.” 

“Stop bloody reading me!” 

“It’s Kyrumption, Spike. You can’t fight Kyrumption. It’s fate and destiny.” 

“Destiny? I don’t think so. We’ve just known each other too bloody long,” Spike denied. 

“Spike, are you ready yet?!” Cordelia’s shout echoed through the hallway. 

Lorne opened the door and let out a long whistle when he saw Cordelia standing on the other side wearing a classic black ankle-length dress with a low-cut neckline. 

“To hell with you, Spike. I want my ticket back!” Lorne commented. 

“Not bloody likely,” Spike elbowed the demon out of the way and held out his arm to escort Cordelia down to the lobby. 

“Boy, Spike, when you clean up, you’re rather dashing and sophisticated,” Cordelia said as she accepted his arm. She walked down the corridor with Spike, calling over her shoulder, “Hope you finally get that book read, Lorne.” 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

“You’ve got to promise not to laugh,” Gunn called out from the manager’s office. 

“I promise,” Fred said from where she waited in the lobby with Angel. 

“It’s got to come from the heart,” Gunn said petulantly. 

“Will you stop being such a little girl? I said, I promise.” 

Angel sat on one of the couches in his suit. Cordelia helped him put it on and knotted his tie. He found it odd that she had an enigmatic smile on her face the whole time and wouldn’t say why. Something was up with her. 

Just then, Angel was pulled out of his brooding by Gunn as the black man stepped out of the manager’s office dressed in a similar suit. He spread his arms out, showing off his attire. Fred’s eyes widened and after a moment a laughed bubbled out of her. 

Gunn frowned. “This is what your promises are worth? I’m having a lot of trust issues at this time in my life.” He glowered at Angel on that last comment. Angel returned the look as if to say ‘what did I do?’ 

“It’s just . . . my God, you’re so pretty,” Fred gushed. “Isn’t he pretty, Angel?” 

The dark vampire smirked. “Oh, yeah, he’s adorable.” If looks could dust, he would be a pile of ashes with the murderous expression on Gunn’s face. 

“Can’t get dust on the threads or I’ll lose my deposit,” Gunn said threateningly. “Besides, I can’t go out with my girl looking like all that, covered in what’s left of your sorry ass!” 

“Your girl?” Angel asked protectively with a raised brow, falling into the elder brother role as Fred turned beet-red. 

“Well, yeah, if it’s okay with her,” Gunn’s lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Oh, Charles, of course it is. I’d love to be your girl!” Fred teased back even as her blush deepened. 

“Fred!” Angel exclaimed in mock disappointment. “You used to be so sweet and shy.” 

“Leave the girl alone. I thought you were already taken, or did you forget that?” Cordelia abruptly reminded him. 

“I haven’t --” Angel turned to reply but was cut short when he saw her walking down the stairs on the arm of his mate. His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw Spike in a suit. For as long as he could remember, his childe hated suits. He wondered what Cordelia had to threaten the blonde with to get him into one. 

“You keep your mouth open like that, Peaches, and you’ll be sucking down a lot of flies!” Spike said with his trademark smirk. 

“You’re here,” Angel said in pleasant surprise, then became skeptical, “Why are you here?” 

“’Cause my girl called and asked me to come,” Spike winked at Fred. 

“Your girl? I thought she was my girl!” Gunn said heatedly. 

“Yours? When did that happen?” Spike shot back with a wink. 

“Not you too!” Cordelia groaned. “Honestly, keep the vampire over-protectiveness to yourselves for one night.” 

Angel looked stunned between Gunn and Fred’s situation and Cordelia and Spike on the entry stairs. “We’re getting off the subject. Spike, I thought you were in Sunnydale keeping an eye on Buffy!” 

“I was until Fred called me and invited me back down here.” He fingered his suit uncertainly. “I would have said no if I knew I’d end up in this monkey suit though.” 

Cordelia lightly slapped his hand away. “Stop that, you’re going to get it all out of shape. Stop fidgeting. You look gorgeous and you know it! Doesn’t he look gorgeous, Angel?” Cordelia asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes. 

Remembering what happened the last time a similar questioned was posed, Angel inquired, “If I answer, will it get me burned to a cinder?” 

“Only if you take too long!” she quipped back. 

Angel’s only reply was a long, smoldering once-over of his boy in the black and white suit. Images sprang to mind of him ripping it off later if Spike decided to stay. His voice came out gravelly as he said, “Yeah, he looks good. Where’s Wesley? We’re going to be late.” 

Knowing their destination, Spike mused, “Maybe my luck will change and they’ll have closed the doors by the time we get there.” 

He was thinking about ripping off the suit for different reasons. However, when he caught the heat in Angel’s eyes as his Sire took in his appearance; he wanted to tear Angel’s suit off as well. He didn’t want to sit through the torture of a ballet to get to the fun part of the evening – that was if Angel didn’t send him back to Buffy-sit. 

“I take it Lorne won’t be joining us?” Gunn inquired, noting Spike’s clothes and the absence of the empath demon. 

“He has graciously given up his ticket . . . with a little persuasion,” Cordelia explained. 

“Don’t you mean he gave it up under the threat of torture?” Spike corrected with an arched brow. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Cordelia replied. 

Spike scoffed. “You threatened to sing **_The Way We Were_** off-key, not that it would be a stretch. Ouch!” he cried as she punched him in the arm. 

Angel looked with pride at his childe. Spike was a gorgeous creature and he did want him . . . by his side and in his bed. If only something wasn’t always coming up to keep them apart, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. Tonight was supposed to be a relaxing evening at the ballet. He was going to enjoy his evening with his boy and the rest of their family and worry about the rest later. 

Wesley joined them looking dapper in his tux as he placed a shawl over Fred’s shoulders and another over Cordelia’s. 

“Not to break your heart, Spike, but since we’re all here, we’ll be able to make the curtain if we leave right now,” Angel said solemnly. 

The group walked out of the hotel together. Angel walked on the opposite side of Spike as the blonde vampire escorted Cordelia to the car. Wesley and Gunn were on either side of Fred, silently fighting for the upper hand in escorting her. 

**************************

**_Theatre in Los Angeles_**

Fred looked around the theatre lobby with a big smile on her face, in awe of the place. The group took their seats. Wesley, Fred and Gunn sat together in one row. Spike, Angel and Cordelia had seats in the row just behind them. 

“Sorry they’re not closer. Getting six seats together . . .” Angel started to apologize. 

“Don’t be silly,” Wesley replied. “This is the best place. We get the whole panorama from here.” 

“Besides, back here we stand less chance of setting off the ‘under seventy’ alarm,” Cordelia commented dryly. 

“Back in the day we’d always get box seats,” Angel said. 

“Or just ate the people who had ’em,” Spike added casually. 

“Let’s not reminisce about the days you ate people for better seats,” Cordelia admonished. “We’re here, enjoy.” 

The vampires settled in to watch the ballet. Spike had seen it once before with Angel. He didn’t want to be here, much less in a suit. His only consolation was that Lorne let him keep his cigarettes and lighter. He just hoped this time his Sire wouldn’t end up crying on his shoulder over how wonderful the performance was. But then again, Angel had a soul now. At least he had intermission to look forward to. 

A little while later, Spike was bored out of his mind. The listlessness led to bouncing his knee which occasionally stopped when Angel put his hand on his thigh to still the movement. Between the stage show and the sound of Cordelia’s snoring on the other side of Angel, Spike was nearly climbing the walls. 

Cordelia shifted and laid her head on Angel’s shoulder, continuing to quietly snore away. In the row ahead of them, Wesley snuck fleeting glances at Fred while Gunn leaned forward, enraptured by the performance. Fred smiled when she saw his obvious enjoyment after all his protestations back at the hotel. 

Ignoring Spike’s restlessness and Cordelia’s snoring, Angel stared intently at the stage. There was something wrong. Not only was the performance bringing forth a sense of déjà vu, but they were eerily familiar. A grim expression crossed his face, but before he could brood over it, the act came to an end with rousing applause. 

“Bravo! Bravo!” Gunn yelled as he clapped. 

His shout jerked Cordelia out of her nap. Bolting upright with sleepy eyes, she said, “I loved it.” 

“It’s just intermission,” Angel whispered. 

“Oh,” she replied disappointingly and wiped her face. Glancing at Angel’s jacket, she saw a dark stain where her head was resting. “That isn’t drool, is it?” 

“It’s okay,” Angel said as he motioned for her to follow the crowd out to the lobby. 

“I’ll say it once, and gloat all you want: These guys are tight, and I am trippin’ out!” Gunn said excitedly. 

“They certainly live up to their reputation,” Wesley agreed. “Has the choreography changed much since . . .?” 

“No. Nothing’s changed,” Angel cut in. 

“Well, it’s wonderful they’re able to . . .” Wesley started to say. 

“No. I mean, nothing’s changed. These are the same dancers I saw before,” Angel clarified. 

“That’s impossible. We’re watching the same troupe you saw in nineteen-ninety?” Fred inquired. 

“I think he said eighteen-ninety,” Gunn corrected. 

“Oh. Okay, that’s much more impossible.” 

“Spike, did you notice anything amiss?” Wesley asked. 

Spike, cigarette between his lips, turned away from watching the other ballet enthusiasts. “I didn’t notice anything. But then, I was bloody bored and wasn’t paying attention.” 

“So, somebody want to tell me how we’re watching a show starring people who should have died sixty years go?” Angel asked. 

Bewildered expressions were exchanged amongst the group, but no one volunteered any ideas. 

“It’s a puzzler. Are there snacks?” Cordelia asked disinterestedly. 

Ignoring her, Wesley said, “So what are we thinking, vampires?” 

“Well, they’re not a deeply tanned bunch,” Cordelia offered. 

“That would explain the precision and the athleticism. I mean, some of those jumps were . . .” He glanced up and saw the others looking at him strangely. “You know, I was cool before I met you all.” 

“Dancing vampires,” Cordelia said, weighing that possibility. “Who’s not scared?” 

“That’s not it,” Angel said. An unreadable look passed between him and Spike. “We’d know. We’d sense it.” 

“Even all the way back there . . .” Wesley started to make a flippant comment. Angel’s expression dared him to finish it. “. . . with the – panoramic view?” 

“We should check it out,” Angel said, addressing Spike. 

“Maybe after the show we should head backstage,” Fred suggested. 

“I was thinking now. You guys should go back. Spike and I will see what’s going on.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Cordelia yawned. 

“Be careful,” Wesley warned. 

The lobby lights flickered and a soft chime sounded to indicate the end of intermission. 

“Go,” Angel waved them off. 

“Hurry,” Gunn sounded impatient to get back to the performance. 

**************************

Angel and Spike descended a flight of stairs and saw a big security guard standing in from of the door at the bottom. 

“Looks like a lot of muscle for a ballet company,” Angel commented. 

“Any idea on how to get past him?” Spike asked. 

“No, you?” 

Spike tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot. He shouldered past his Sire and headed down the stairs to the guard. Digging a new cigarette out of his crumpled pack, Spike acted like he lost his lighter and patted his pockets. 

“Excuse me, mate. You got a light?” he asked the guard. 

“No. I don’t smoke. It’s not allowed back here,” the guard replied just before he was knocked out by a sudden cross-punch from Angel. 

“So that’s how it works,” Angel said casually. 

He and Spike stepped over the body and walked through the door. It swung shut behind them on a spring-loaded hinge. 

“Okay. Do you want to explain why a building that should only be forty-feet long seems to go on forever?” Spike inquired as he tucked the cigarette away. 

Angel glanced past him down a corridor that extended into infinity. “It’s clearly a spell, or a time flux. I don’t think we want to be rushing in here.” 

“I vote we go back, get the others and talk options,” Spike suggested. 

They turned back to the door they just came through only to find that the corridor stretched on with no end in sight. 

“Works in theory,” Angel commented. 

**************************

Wesley, Fred and Gunn were watching the ballet while Cordelia slept on, her head pillowed on Wesley’s shoulder. The director was also watching the dance from his box seat. 

**************************

Angel and Spike walked down the corridor. Angel opened one of the doors and they stepped inside, shutting it behind them. 

“This was her dressing room,” Angel stated. 

“A prima ballerina, eh?” Spike said as he started searching the room for clues. 

“It’s unchanged,” Angel said as he looked around in awe. 

Spike reached out, but stopped short of touching a necklace with a cross on it. “She’d wait for her lover here.” 

“It’s warm. It’s very warm,” Angel said to himself. 

“I can feel it,” Spike acknowledged. 

“Something happened here,” Angel said ignoring Spike. 

_“Angel?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“I want you.”_

_Angel looked surprised. Spike hadn’t seemed interested in him all night. “You what?”_

_“I can’t deny this anymore. The mate claim, I can’t fight it anymore. I tried,” Spike said._

_Angel shook his head to clear the lust-haze. “I . . . – This isn’t us, Spike.” He licked his lips as he stared at Spike’s mouth. “We’re acting this out. Someone is . . .”_

“Angel!” Spike nearly shouted in his normal voice. 

The dark vampire snapped out of his daze and looked at Spike as if he’d just noticed him. 

“What are you going on about?” 

“You said that you couldn’t fight the mate claim anymore and that you wanted me. Is that true? Is that really what you want?” Angel asked. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s not exactly the time and place to do anything about it,” Spike shrugged. 

Angel reached out and caressed Spike’s cheek as he leaned closer. “Why are you so afraid?” 

“I’m not afraid of anything, least of all you,” Spike replied. 

Before he could say anything more, Angel’s mouth was on his. He stood frozen for a moment but then melted against the elder vampire. Angel’s fingers laced in his hair and pulled him closer. Spike moaned into the kiss as his arms slipped around Angel’s waist. 

Angel took it as a sign of encouragement and allowed his passion free reign where his mate was concerned. Months of separation from his boy had been agony. Sleepless nights, working endlessly, doing mundane tasks he never did before – like the business taxes that Wesley or Cordelia usually did. All of it was a distraction to keep his mind off the creature in his arms now. 

Spike growled and returned Angel’s passion with equal fervor. The more Angel pushed, the more he pushed back. Angel’s hands were on his hips, loosening his cummerbund. He had Angel’s shirt half open before reality set in and he jerked away. 

“We need to get out of here before we do something we regret,” Spike said breathlessly. 

“Yes,” Angel agreed huskily. 

Neither vampire moved towards the door. Instead, they stepped closer together. Angel snaked an arm around Spike’s waist and slammed his mouth down on Spike’s, kissing him savagely. Spike wrenched his mouth away only to feel his Sire’s lips on his throat over his turning mark. 

“This isn’t getting us out of here,” Spike gasped even as he clutched his mate’s broad shoulders. 

“I know,” Angel mumbled against his skin. He pulled away, seeming to get his barrings, “Right.” 

Angel followed Spike as the blonde backed up towards the door. They stared at each other’s lips until Spike’s back met the door and Angel’s mouth was on his again. Spike clawed at Angel’s shoulders and ground against his crotch as he felt Angel reach for the knob behind him. 

Spike broke the kiss long enough to growl: “Open the soddin’ door already.” 

“I’m trying,” Angel replied. 

“Try harder.” 

That command elicited the wrong reaction. Instead of opening the door, Angel slammed him into the wooden panel and used his full weight to hold him there. Spike reached down and grabbed Angel’s hips, pushing him back. It left just enough room for Spike to move forward so that Angel could turn the knob. Breaking apart, they hurried through the open door and Angel slammed it shut behind him. 

Both vampires gasped raggedly and they looked worse for the wear due to their efforts to get out of the room. Their clothes were in disarray: Angel’s shirt was halfway open and his suit coat looked mangled. Spike didn’t look much better. His shirt was wrinkled and one side was pulled out of his cummerbund. Both were sporting erections in various stages. 

“I came here because Fred asked me to,” Spike said breathlessly. “I _did not_ come here for _that_.” 

“Right,” Angel nodded in agreement. “What were we doing in there?” 

“Spirits took us over,” Spike replied as casually as if they were discussing the weather. 

“Good thing it wears off quick. I’ve been possessed by spirits before and it didn’t go well,” Angel said. Now, if his erection would go away, everything would be fine. He could chalk that up to the spell and not because the other vampire had an effect on him. 

“Ought to be used to it by now,” Spike commented dryly. “I mean you completed the Sire claim and started a mate claim on me while under a spell.” 

“You’re still upset over that?” Angel asked in irritation. 

“I’m just saying that you completed the claims when Willow did that spell that forced you to Sunnydale,” Spike said flippantly. 

“That spell may have gotten me there, but I claimed you of my own free will,” Angel said defensively. 

“I’d like to see how you’ll write this soddin’ experience off,” Spike scoffed. 

Angel glared at Spike. 

“Wot?” 

“Shut up and help me find a way out of this mess,” Angel growled. 

“Oh, now you want my help?” Spike asked sarcastically. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be stuck in here forever.” 

“You’re the one that’s been possessed before. So, how do we get out of here, Houdini?” 

Angel’s brow furrowed at the reference and then his head hit the wooden panel, and he groaned, “We have to go back in there.” 

Spike’s scarred brow rose. “We have to go back – into the room that we just escaped from with our clothes barely in tact?” Then, he hissed, “Are you insane?” 

“Damn it, it’s a clue! Those spirits are still in there. We can get in, find out what happened, get out with our clothes still on and get out of here. Then, you can go back to Sunnydale and be as far away from me as you can possibly get.” 

“You are so narcissistic! You’d like that wouldn’t you, bloody pillock! You’d like nothing more than to have me gone!” Spike shot back. 

“Who said I liked it? I never wanted to be away from you, stubborn ass. It’s the way it has to be! Can’t you see that I want you safe!? Is that so hard to believe?” Angel shouted. 

“Let’s just get this over with so we can get out of here and you’ll get your wish of never seeing me again, ungrateful dick,” Spike grumbled. 

“Fine,” Angel said tiredly and opened the door again. 

**************************

Up in the theatre, Cordelia used Wesley’s shoulder as a pillow while she slept. Fred was enamored with the performance. Wesley’s hand slowly moved towards Fred’s hand, resting on her knee, just as Gunn’s hand did the same. 

“Angel!” Fred whispered. 

Wesley and Gunn jerked their hands back. 

“Huh?” Gunn asked confused. 

“And Spike. They’ve been gone way too long,” Fred replied. 

“We’re gonna miss the end!” Gunn cried even as he stood with Cordelia, Wesley and Fred. 

**************************

Back in the ballerina’s dressing room, Spike and Angel stood in the center of the room waiting for something to happen. 

“Anything coming to you?” Angel asked. 

“Other than this is a bloody bad idea? No,” Spike replied. 

Angel looked around and then glanced at Spike. “Okay, we’ll take it from the middle.” 

“The middle of what? You were going on about me not fighting the mate claim,” Spike said with a tone of indifference. 

“Why do you have to make this so difficult? I’m trying to find a way out of here, so you can get back to your life and I can get --” 

“Back to brooding over your life?” Spike finished. 

Angel’s lips thinned into a grim line. “Yeah, whatever.” 

“I’m not afraid of anything, least of all you,” Spike said in character. He grabbed Angel by the lapels of his jacket, hauled him closer and kissed him. A full minute later, they both broke apart and looked around the room.  
  
“Maybe it only works the one time. Told you this was a bloody waste of . . .”  
  
Suddenly, Angel grabbed the back of Spike’s head and pulled him into a searing kiss. Spike reached between them and worked at releasing Angel’s belt as his maneuvered them backwards towards the chaise. He got it unbuckled and the pants open before Angel fell back onto the lounge, taking Spike with him. 

“Gotta get these off you,” Spike panted as he tried to jerk the pants down while Angel trailed kisses down his throat. 

Angel whimpered when Spike pulled away and sat up to work his pants down out of the way. He stared at his boy’s beautifully sculpted features while Spike took his pants off and pulled Angel’s shoes and pants off the rest of the way. 

“Hurry, need you,” Angel pleaded. “He may come at any moment.” 

Spike tossed their clothes aside and settled between Angel’s thighs, “He who?” 

Angel gasped as he felt Spike’s cock brush against his own. “Kurskov has power. He could kill us.” 

“Kurskov owns the company. He doesn’t own you,” Spike said as he used his fangs to slice into his fingers and pressed them gently inside Angel. 

“He thinks I’m his,” Angel said with a Russian lilt in his voice. 

“You’re mine!” Spike growled as he replaced his fingers with his erection and thrust inside his Sire. 

He squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation of Angel stretching around him. God, his Sire was so tight. He could feel the elder vampire arch up against him. Spike forced his eyes open to see the look of ecstasy on Angel’s face. The dark vampire’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth open on a moan. Angel’s hands clutched at his waist, pulling him closer as his cock slid deeper inside the tight passage. 

When Spike pulled back, Angel’s eyes snapped open. “Where are you going?” 

Spike smirked, shaking his head. He pushed forward and Angel’s head fell back at the sensation of being filled again. Blindly, he reached for Spike and pulled him down for a kiss. As Spike moved with slow, steady strokes, Angel’s tongue mimicked the motion while he explored Spike’s mouth. 

Spike thrust deeper, causing Angel’s body to jerk up on the lounge and break the kiss. Just as Spike sat up to watch his cock slide in and out of his Sire something yanked him away from his lover and knocked him to the ground. Angel sat up at the pain and immediate loss. He looked over the edge of the lounge to see one of the Director’s minions in a comedy mask hit Spike across the chin with a hard right. 

Angel scrambled to his feet and hurried to dress before jumping into the fray as another minion came out of nowhere and headed for Spike. Angel grabbed the second minion from behind, spun him around and punched him in the mouth. Spike used the reprieve to tuck his cock into his pants with some difficulty before attacking his opponent. 

**************************

Cordelia, Wesley, Fred and Gunn walked the never-ending halls looking for Angel and Spike when one of Kurskov’s minions in a tragedy mask came up behind Gunn. He let out a scream as the minion stabbed him from behind with a sword. 

Fred spun around and cried, “Charles!” 

Another sword-wielding minion came out of nowhere and confronted Wesley. 

“Fred, stay between us,” Wesley warned as he faced off against his masked adversary. 

“I need to . . .” Gunn started to say as he swayed on his feet and his enemy nearly gained upper hand. 

Fred picked up a prop and walloped the tragedy minion as Gunn dropped to his knees with a groan. 

“Wesley!” Fred called out in alarm. Wesley turned and caught the tragedy minion’s sword as she tossed it to him and engaged the comedy minion. 

“Can you handle the other?” he asked. Glancing back, he saw Fred continue to hit the sobbing tragedy minion over the head before turning back to his own rival. 

“Well, then, it’s just us,” Wesley said casually before he attacked the minion with his sword. 

**************************

Spike punched a comedy minion in the stomach and tossed him over the lounge while Angel had a tragedy minion on the floor, choking it for all he was worth. The comedy minion rolled to his feet and slashed at Spike with its sword. Spike dodged the swipe and parried with a right hook to the minion’s jaw. Taking advantage of the reprieve while the minion gained a second wind, Spike glanced over at Angel who still had his hands wrapped around his opponent’s neck. 

“A bloody weapon wouldn’t hurt,” Spike commented. 

Just then, the tragedy minion pulled out a stiletto and stabbed Angel through the heart with it. 

“Thank you,” Angel said as if the minion offered it to him. He pulled out the stiletto, knocked the tragedy minion across the chin, and then stabbed it through the heart with its own sword. Blindly, he tossed the stiletto and skewered the comedy minion through the throat. 

Spike watched the minion drop to the floor and turned angry eyes on Angel. “Soddin’ hell! I could have fought him. All I needed was a weapon. You think I can’t bloody well take care of myself?” 

Angel got to his feet and stomped over to his mate. “I know you can take care of yourself. I taught you how to take care of yourself, damn it. I wasn’t thinking when I pitched that stiletto. I was just trying to get out of here and the quickest way to do that was to kill him.” 

“Don’t do me any favors, Angel. I’m a big boy now,” Spike snapped. 

They had moved closer to each other with every insult. 

“Next time, I’ll let him kill you, you ungrateful . . .” 

“We got to move,” Spike cut in. 

“Why?” Angel asked curtly, annoyed that he was interrupted yet again. 

“You just look so bloody gorgeous right now,” Spike groaned. 

That stopped Angel short. “Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Run,” Angel said. 

They ran out of the room. Angel had the presence of mind to take one of the minion’s swords with him. When they rounded a corner it was to see Gunn and Fred getting to their feet. Gunn favored his bloodstained side and Fred had a deep blush in her cheeks. 

“You guys all right?” Angel asked concerned. 

“Charles got stabbed,” Fred replied. 

Spike and Angel glanced down as Gunn pulled up his shirt to show off the wound. 

“It’s a couple stitches worth,” Gunn said casually. 

Angel’s attention was momentarily caught by the dead minions that Gunn and Fred had bested before Gunn was stabbed. “The same guys that attacked us.” 

“Spike, your pants are unbuttoned,” Fred pointed out. 

The blonde hurried to fasten his pants. He didn’t have time to finish dressing before he was drawn into the brawl in the dressing room. Come to think of it, neither did Angel. Spike looked at his Sire to see he had fastened his pants, but his shirt was still half open and mussed. 

“Any idea of where we are or what the hell is going on?” Gunn asked, turning the topic back to their current predicament. 

Angel shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, Spike and I hit some kind of mystical hotspot back in one pf the dressing rooms.” 

“The ballerina had a lover way back when and there was a guy – Count Kurskov. He owned the company and he had a thing for the girl. They were afraid of him, it seems,” Spike filled in. 

“He had powers of some kind,” Angel added. 

“Wesley figured it out,” Cordelia said behind them. 

“He was a wizard,” Wesley said as he and Cordelia entered the corridor. They all turned to see Wesley standing at the threshold of the room, sword hanging loosely from his hand. Cordelia was beside him with her own sword. “He was obsessed with the girl. When he found her with the other man, he went insane with jealousy. He pulled her out of time, out of any reality beyond _his_ theater, his company. He swore she would dance for him forever.” 

“How did you . . . ?” Fred started to ask. 

“I, uh . . . _We_ hit a hotspot too,” Wesley replied. 

“And now we’re stuck here?” Gunn inquired. 

“Well, ah, this kind of temporal shift can’t just exist. It has to be maintained. That requires power and concentration. If we can overload him somehow, we might be able to slip back to the real world,” Wesley surmised. 

“Great,” Angel said. 

“So how do we overload him?” Spike asked. 

“Well, I’d imagine _that_ requires some energy,” Wesley replied, gesturing to a couple of minions who were rising. 

The others turned in that direction and saw them shake and split in two. Angel grabbed two of the minions in a headlock and broke their necks. As soon as they hit the floor, the minions shivered and split into a new pair of minions. 

“The more we kill, the more he makes,” Fred said anxiously. 

“Look,” Cordelia’s voice caused the group to turn and see the corridor waver and reveal another reality. 

“And that is draining his energy,” Wesley pointed out. “Angel, Spike, find a way to the stage. The count will be watching.” 

“I bet _he_ has a box seat,” Angel muttered. 

“Quit yer gripin’ and work on a way to get us out of here,” Spike growled. 

“You’re so quick to leave my company aren’t you?” Angel commented. 

“No more than you are in getting rid of me,” Spike accused. 

“Would you two stop bickering and find his power center. Destroy it while we try to loosen his hold,” Wesley chastised. 

“By making more monsters? A man with a frightening plan,” Gunn commented before he slugged a minion. 

When another minion came up the corridor, Angel and Spike both punched him in the face and knocked him down. Spike picked the minion up by the head and twisted until he heard a crack and dropped him. 

Meanwhile, Cordelia, Gunn, Fred and Wesley cornered themselves and started to fight the minions. Angel waited for the reality to flicker again and then jumped through it, pulling Spike with him. They landed in the wings of the stage. Near the edge of the curtain a ballerina stood watching the performance. They stepped closer to see the same ballerina dance off stage. Her image shivered and dissolved as she passed from view of the theatre’s audience. 

“Hello?” Angel greeted cautiously. 

The ballerina’s head whipped around and she stared at them in surprise. “Who are you? No one’s ever been here before. You’re new.” 

“I’m Spike, this is Angel,” Spike said with a thumb gesture in his Sire’s direction. 

“We’re pretty old actually,” Angel added. He slowly moved closer. “I’ve seen you dance.” 

The Ballerina regarded them with a look then turned back to the stage. “Everyone sees me.” 

“It was **_Giselle_** then, as well,” Angel said. 

“Always,” the ballerina confirmed. 

Spike nudged Angel in the side and gestured to something behind the ballerina. The dark vampire looked past the girl and saw Kurskov up in his box. 

“I know what’s happening. Count Kurskov – he’s punishing you,” Angel said as he stared at the man in question. 

“He made me. He owns me. When I dance, it is only for him. 

“Do you believe that?” Angel asked. 

The ballerina shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. I’ll dance. I’ll wait here. And then I’ll dance again. That is all.” 

Silent up to this point, for the most part, allowing Angel to take the lead in this case, Spike couldn’t let that comment go by. “A hundred years of doing the same bloody piece every night? Is that enough for you? What about that bloke Stephan?” 

Angel cringed at how crude Spike’s inquiry sounded, but he wondered the same thing. The ballerina looked unaffected by the question. She took a deep breath and replied, “I waited too long. I should have gone when he asked me. I should have disappeared, but . . .” She swallowed hard, trying to give a voice to the words that wouldn’t pass the lump in her throat. “I w-wanted this. This da-a-ance, this . . . I hesitated and . . . I lost everything that mattered. Now, all I do is wait.” 

“You dance,” Angel corrected. 

“There is a section in the first act, during the courtship dance, where – my foot slips. My ankle’s turned and – and I don’t quite hold – every time.” She glanced at the box, but the Count was riveted to the performance and ignoring her. “He doesn’t notice. He doesn’t even know ballet that well. But always, at that same moment, I slip. It isn’t just the same ballet.” Her eyes flicked up to meet Angel’s. “It’s the same _performance_. I don’t dance.” She glanced at the stage and watched her likeness execute the same routine as it has for the last century. “I echo.” She turned back to Angel after a moment. “ _Please_ , can you make it stop?” 

Angel reached out his hand towards the stage and watched it vanish in mid-air. “We can help you. But you have to do something.” 

“What?” the ballerina asked desperately. 

“Change the ending, luv. Dance something else,” Spike suggested. 

“I can’t,” the ballerina said with a shake of her head. 

“He doesn’t control all of this. He’s losing it,” Angel said as he looked behind him and Spike to see the 1890 backstage dissolve for a moment into the present-day one. “But you have to take the stage. It’s not too late. You can change things.” 

The ballerina looked skeptically from the two vampires to the stage. Slowly, she stepped towards the stage, looking back at Angel once, then sprinted out and began to dance around the male lead dancer who lay stretched out on the stage as the rest of the company left the stage. She raised her head from bowing over the fallen body to look doubtful towards Spike, who waited in the wings with Angel. Then, she stepped back and struck a different pose. 

Seeing the drastic change, Kurskov jumped up out of his chair and cried, “No!” 

As the ballerina continued to dance, the body of the male lead dancer shivered and dissolved. The ballerina paused, holding a pose, and then looked up defiantly at Kurskov’s box. Angel ran out onto the stage and, with two great leaps, landed in Kurskov’s box. He grabbed the man’s lapels and jerked him closer. 

“Where is your power center?” Angel demanded. 

“How dare you?!” Kurskov spat. 

“I’ll guess it’s this,” Angel surmised. He smashed the jewel in the center of the medallion hanging around Kurskov’s neck. Suddenly, a blue light emanated from the necklace and washed out over the ballerina on stage as well as the minions that were backstage still fighting with Wesley, Cordelia, Fred and Gunn. On stage, the ballerina looked up at Angel with a grateful expression. He gave her a slight nod. She gave a deep bow and disappeared. 

“You had no right. She was my love. She danced only for _me_!” Kurskov whined. 

A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to see Spike. “You love her that much?” The blonde vampire hauled back and punched Kurskov in the face, dropping him to the floor. “Start a bloody website.” 

“I think box seats are overrated,” Angel commented as they left the box to find their friends. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Later That Night_**

Wesley was in the manager’s office bandaging the wound in Gunn’s back. “We’ll have to clean the wound. Do you want something for the pain?” 

Staring at Fred sitting across from him, Gunn asked, “What pain?” Fred blushed when Gunn smiled at her. 

In the lobby, Angel turned away from watching them with a smile on his face. He didn’t know exactly what was going on with his three co-workers, but the goofy smile on Gunn’s face was priceless. When he turned around, Spike was helping Cordelia brush lint off her dress. 

“Do you think I can still return it?” Cordelia asked Spike. “If not, then we’re going to have to take on a lot more cases.” 

“It should be fine,” Spike assured her. 

Just then, Cordelia glanced at the entrance when movement caught her peripheral and saw a man in the doorway. 

“Groo?” Spike was still brushing her dress off and nearly snagged the fabric when she ran away from him yelling, “Groo!” 

“Who the bloody hell is Groo?” Spike asked just as someone behind him yelled, “Princess!” 

Spike and Angel turned to see Cordelia throw herself into the Groosalug’s arms as he came down the stairs and swung her around in a tight hug. 

“Oh God! I can’t believe it!” Cordelia squealed. 

Fred and Wesley came out of the office upon hearing the screaming. 

Groo looked deep into Cordelia’s eyes, “I feared that you’d forget who I was.” 

Cordelia gave him a shy smile, “Remind me.” 

Angel stood slack jawed and Spike cringed when they saw the two reunited lovebirds kissing. It was like watching your younger sister kiss her boyfriend – not an experience that should be repeated . . . _ever_! 

Spike leaned closer to Angel and whispered, “If we ever looked like that while kissing, remind me that we should kill ourselves.” 

“I’ll second that,” Angel agreed. 

Lorne walked down the stairs with his eyes on Cordelia and Groo. Never taking his eyes off the couple, he sidled up to Angel and whispered, “He just showed up. Apparently once everyone in Pylea got their freedom, the political situation got a little sketchy. The Groosalug here got deposed and they set up some sort of people’s republic. So, he came looking for his – true love.” 

“Huh,” Angel grunted in acknowledgement. “That’s good – good for her.” 

“Yeah,” Lorne drawled doubtfully. 

“Well, I’m going to get out of this suit. Are you coming, Spike?” Angel said over his shoulder as he sprinted up the steps, taking two at a time. He didn’t bother to look back to see if Spike followed him. 

“Well, what was that all about?” Lorne asked no one in particular. 

“Don’t ask, mate. It’s been a long night.” Spike jogged up the stairs after Angel, muttering, “Soddin’ mystical hotspots . . .” 

“Well, that’s a surprise. I thought for sure Spike would take off after what happened at the ballet,” Fred commented as she turned to Wesley. “I guess you can never predict things when it comes to those two, you know?” 

Wesley looked at her for a moment, admiring how beautiful she looked in her dress, “No, you never can.” 

Fred gave him a smile before turning back to watch Groo and Cordelia snuggle. 

**************************

**_Angel’s Suite_**

Angel had shrugged out of his jacket and was removing his cufflinks when Spike stepped into the room minus his suit’s jacket and bow tie. 

“It’s strange. I remember him being taller,” Angel commented without looking up from his task. 

“What’s that mate?” Spike asked as he stepped closer. 

“The Groosalug,” Angel clarified. “In Pylea, he seemed taller.” 

“Could be that Pyleans were really munchkins and Lorne ended up a freakishly tall hybrid?” Spike offered. 

“Does he seem, ah,” Angel shrugged and glanced up, “I don’t know – short?” 

“Why? Are you jealous of the guy? Think he’ll steal me away?” Spike smirked as he moved in front of Angel and started undoing his bow tie for him. Angel let out a possessive growl as soon as the words left Spike’s mouth. There was a glint of humor in Spike’s eyes at the noise. “Aw, it’s so nice to know you still care that much about me, Angel. Seriously though, I don’t see anything wrong with him. He’s clearly in love with our Cordy. I’m sure once she gets him home --” 

Angel’s head shot up at those words and he squeaked, “She took him home?” 

“Yeah. I don’t hear her in the hotel anymore,” Spike replied as he pulled the tie loose from Angel’s neck and stepped back. 

“Well, that’s good – right? At least we won’t have to put him up here. The place was starting to turn into a hotel,” Angel said to himself as he hung his jacket up in the closet. 

“I can see you have no problems with it,” Spike smirked behind Angel’s back. 

“Of course I don’t!” Angel scoffed. “Why would I?” 

“She’s an adult, Angel. She can handle herself. The first wrong move he makes on her, she’ll probably knock him into next Wednesday,” Spike said. 

“I’m glad you came tonight,” Angel said, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, well, Fred asked me and then she and Cordy wouldn’t let me leave. When those two get it in their heads to do something . . .” Spike trailed off. 

“And the thing with the spell tonight . . .” 

“Don’t mention it. It couldn’t be helped. ’s a one-off, yeah? A moment of weakness for both of us,” Spike said. 

“Is that all it was? Cause I --” Angel started to say. 

“Look, Angel, things between us haven’t been right for a while. There’re still . . . unresolved issues between us. It was a nice memory to hold onto, but that’s all.” 

“It does seem like the only time we ever get together, there’s a spell involved,” Angel said softly. 

“Seems like,” Spike agreed. “Well, I have to go change back into my regular clothes and I’ll get out of here. No telling what the Slayer’s gotten herself into while I’ve been away.” 

Angel heard Spike head for the door. He refused to turn around and watch as his mate walked out of his life again. Buffy was his priority. He couldn’t afford to be selfish. The world needed Buffy and Buffy needed someone as strong as she to watch her back. An internal war started between his head and heart. His head told him that Buffy needed Spike more. She was the only Slayer that was _free_ to take care of the Hellmouth and as much as her friends liked to help, they just couldn’t protect her like Spike could. 

On the other hand, his heart told him to never let Spike out of his sight again. There was a literal ache in his chest at the thought of his boy leaving him again. His dick had ideas of strapping Spike down to his bed and never letting him up. In fact, he had even gone out and bought tie-down straps and installed them on his bedframe after that time Spike had shackled him to the bed and shaved his groin. They were hidden under the mattress. Though, they never got to use them yet. He completely forgot about them at Christmas. Good thing too, because Spike was calling the shots then as well, if he remembered correctly. 

Angel was still arguing with himself when he heard the doorknob turn and the panel open before he was in motion. Half dozen long strides had him behind Spike. He pushed the door shut with a nudge of his hand. Spike stood still but didn’t turn around. 

“Stay,” Angel commanded in a soft voice without inflection. 

“Angel,” Spike sighed as he turned around finally. He didn’t want to have an argument after what happened at the ballet. Please, just let him have the untarnished memory of being inside his Sire without the accusations and disagreements over how it should not have happened because it was against the Lore. 

Any objections died in Spike’s throat when he suddenly felt Angel’s mouth on his. A groan escaped as Angel pressed him against the door. The sound parted his lips, allowing Angel’s tongue to slip inside. After a moment, his Sire broke away and rested his forehead against Spike’s. 

“Stay.” 

One word. A simple command. The imperceptible ‘ _Please_ ’ could be heard in the small space between them. Spike wasn’t giving in. He wouldn’t let his guard down again. He almost lost his heart last time Angel asked him to stay before sending him back to Sunnyhell with the Slayer. He wouldn’t let his heart lead this time. But, here was better than Sunnydale where he was only muscle. 

His friends were here. 

His family was here. 

His Sire. 

His mate. 

Spike nodded in agreement. Angel closed his eyes in relief. His boy was staying.


	23. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 46: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 13)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

The dawning light fought to penetrate the suite on the third floor of the hotel, but it was blocked by heavy drapes. The door of a cabinet stood ajar in the sitting room of the suite. The cabinet was minus a few bottles of cheap wine. Inside the adjoining bedroom, two empty wine bottles littered the floor. Angel lay clothed across the end of the bed, propped up with his arm on a pillow, clutching a bottle of wine while Spike reclined lengthways against the pillows, clothed except for his bare feet. There was a bottle of wine perched between his legs. 

“You know, of all the things you’ve done over the years,” Spike slurred and stopped for a moment to think of how to say what he was on his mind. “And you’ve done some – _really_ – shitty things to me over those years. Having me babysit a slayer has to be the worst. Noooooooo . . . wait . . .” he grabbed the bottle from between his legs and slammed it down on the mattress, sloshing the liquid inside the quarter-empty bottle. “Babysitting my dying grandsire. That has to be the worst. But then again, going against me nature not to kill an enemy?” 

“I’m _really_ sorry, Spike,” Angel drawled drunkenly. 

He was long past the buzz-stage of drinking. It may have been cheap wine, but damn if it wasn’t a strong variety. It may have been magicked somehow. It had to be. They normally didn’t get drunk on cheap liquor. Or maybe it was because the topic of discussion wasn’t his favorite and he _let_ the alcohol take effect. 

“I made you do so many things you didn’t want to,” Angel slashed his bottle through the air. “And – and – and I don’t just mean the babysitting. I mean forcing you to become evil like Angelus; telling you that William wasn’t a good name. It’s a good name. It’s a strong name. _Willlliammm_ , means ‘protector’. It fits you. You took care of Dru, and Darla and Buffy.” There was a moment of silence. “And Cordelia. And Fred.” 

“That’s right. I’m always cleaning up after you. You tend to leave a string of women in your wake in various stages of brokenness,” Spike slurred. He slowly thought about it. “Is ‘brokenness’ a word?” 

Angel shrugged. “You’re the poet. You tell me.” 

“Broke-en-ness, Broke-ness?” Spike said repeatedly. “Now it doesn’t soddin’ sound right.” 

“That didn’t either,” Angel laughed at his inebriated childe. 

Spike scowled, then shrugged and went on. “What was I saying?” 

“That I leave a lot of broken-hearted women in my wake for you to fix,” Angel offered. 

“That’s right. You do. Darla and Buffy . . . by the way, you should _never_ have those two in a room together,” Spike shook his head in agreement to his own words. 

“That goes without saying,” Angel replied sardonically and took a swig of wine. 

“And Dru! Couldn’t you have at least left a few more working brain cells in her head? It would have been helpful being that you were planning on turning her,” Spike said offhandedly. “And Fred . . . I swear, if I wasn’t mated to you and loved her like a baby sister, I’d be chasing her. Nab her up before Charlie-boy could get his mitts on her.” 

That sobered Angel a bit. “Gunn and Fred? No way.” He shook his head at the idea. “There was that teasing before the ballet. But, no . . . she’s too good for him. She’s too good for you. She had a crush on me. I’m the ‘handsome man that saved her from the monsters.’” 

“Keep it up, mate. We just got her weaned off hero-worshiping you. Do you want to get her back on that train? I never fancied myself sharing a bed with two other people – especially after that time in the East End,” Spike commented. 

Angel glanced at the sitting room and saw a stream of daylight trying to peek through a crack in the drapes. They had been up all night trying to sort out their muddled relationship. ‘Trying’ is the operative word since they’ll be working things out in the next century or two. But for now, they had discussed enough over the last nine hours to let the matter rest. 

“What do you say to: tossing the rest of this wine and go find some blood?” Angel suggested. 

“Sounds good to me,” Spike replied. 

Setting aside the bottles, they put their shoes on and Spike shrugged into a clean shirt. They grabbed all of the bottles and poured the remainder of the alcohol down the drain of the bathroom sink and took the empty bottles downstairs to pitch in the kitchen trash. Usually, they’d race each other to the kitchen, but after a night of drinking, the thought of running made Spike physically ill with motion sickness. The two flights of stairs alone caused vertigo. 

They were passing the manager’s office when Angel happened to glance over and saw Wesley sitting at the desk. He stopped without alerting Spike and the blonde vampire collided with his broad back. 

“Soddin’ ape, warn a bloke first before you decide to just quit walking,” Spike grumbled. 

Wesley looked up from his work when he heard Spike cursing a blue streak at Angel. He got up and walked to the doorway. “Good morning to you too, Spike.” 

“You’re the only one here?” Angel asked, looking around for Cordelia. 

“So far,” Wesley replied. He looked down and saw the two wine bottles. “Have you two been on a drinking binge?” 

“We had . . . things to discuss after what happened last night,” Angel replied. 

“Get everything worked out then?” 

“Not likely,” Spike spoke up from behind Angel’s shoulder as he took the bottles to the kitchen. 

“Enough of enough,” Angel added. “Cordelia’s usually in by now, isn’t she?” 

“It’s still early. I imagine that she and Groosalug were up late. They have a lot of catching up to do,” Wesley said with a skeptical look between the bottles and the two vampires. “Probably like you two had.” 

“Doubt that, mate,” Spike grumbled as he came back. 

“Right, ah, _they_ ,” Angel said quickly. 

“They who?” 

Angel and Spike spun around – Spike nearly stumbling over his feet in the process – to see Cordelia put her purse and coat down on the reception desk. 

“You’re here,” Angel greeted. 

“And . . . so is he,” Spike gestured towards the weapons cabinet where Groo was trying out one of the swords. 

“Angel, your weapons are most impressive,” Groo commented. 

“Thanks,” Angel squeaked and then cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He grabbed a hold of Cordelia’s arm, still watching as Groo checking out his weapons. “Can you, uh, ask him not to handle my weapons?” 

Cordelia spared a glance at her pseudo-boyfriend and shrugged off Angel’s concern. “Oh, relax. If there’s anything Groo knows, it’s how to handle a weapon – poor guy. Looks like that’s about all he’s going to be handling. Besides, I don’t see why you’re all bent out of shape, it’s not like he’s handling Spike.” 

“Hey! I do not need to be handled!” Spike protested. 

“So you mean, ah, you two didn’t . . .?” Angel started to say. 

“I got him home last night and we started . . . you know,” Cordelia hedged. “But then, I couldn’t go through with it.” 

Angel’s brow rose at that. “You couldn’t?” 

“Cold feet, luv? He can’t get it up? Not enough stamina? Is he impotent?” Spike asked with a smirk. 

“No, Spike! Gawd! Only you would think that! I couldn’t do it after seeing that disgusting, spiny thing!” 

Angel glanced at Groo still handling his weapons a moment before he and Spike followed Cordelia to the manager’s office. “Spiny?” he prompted. 

Cordelia waved her hand in front of her eyes. “Right up in my face! That’s what the visions are like now. No pain, less artsy, sometimes floaty, though not lately, and very often stinky.” 

That got Wesley’s attention. “You had a vision?” 

“Yeah, big as life,” Cordelia showed them a sketch she had drawn of the latest Big Bad. “Last night while Groo and I were getting reacquainted, it killed the mood.” 

“You should have called one of us,” Wesley admonished. 

“Oh please! Like I’m going to bother you guys in the middle of the night because I want sex and can’t have it.” 

“I wouldn’t object. If you need a stand-in . . .” Spike offered. 

“Actually, I meant the vision,” Wesley clarified. 

Cordelia shrugged. “Oh. That. Well, it’s not rising up until sometime later today.” 

“Oh,” Spike replied and moved on to the more important topic at hand. “So, why can’t you have sex?” 

Angel’s brow furrowed at his mate’s over-eagerness to copulate with his secretary. Spike seemed all too happy to help Cordelia with her dry spell. A little too happy, if you asked him. They’d just found common ground with each other. The last thing he wanted to deal with was another woman coming between them, of which there had been a few over the years. 

“I could lose my visionity,” Cordelia replied. 

Wesley scoffed and went back to his work. “If you want to play it that way.” 

Cordelia’s brows furrowed. “ _Vision_ -ity!” The visions. When that one hit me last night, it hit me. In Pylea the visions were supposed to pass to Groo if we ever did the royal com-shuck. How do I know that won’t happen here?” 

Angel perked up at that. “Good point. You really don’t.” 

“But your recent transformation to half-demon could have changed all that. It might be possible to . . .” 

Angel didn’t feel like getting his assignments from Groosalug the Brave and whatever the hell he was in Pylea. For Wesley to suggest that Cordelia take that risk was more than he could take. 

In annoyance, Angel kicked the side of Wesley’s desk as the former Watcher moved his chair. “Still, you know, better safe than sorry.” Addressing Cordelia, he said, “You’re doing the right thing.” 

“Wait a minute,” Spike cut in. “How come no one told me that Cordelia became half demon?” 

“I’m sorry, Spike. But it occurred while she was in coma. When she awoke, she was part demon and appeared to float in mid-air while having a vision,” Wesley replied. 

“You float?” Spike asked Cordelia. 

“Every now and then when I have a vision,” she smiled. “I even glow.” Everyone looked at her. “I discovered that the other night when I was looking for a shoe under the bed.” They continued to stare. “What? They were Pradas!” 

“They’re just shoes!” Spike, Angel, and Wesley chorused. 

“I know. I know,” Cordelia held up her hands in surrender. “Back to the dilemma at hand, I can’t risk losing my visions. It’s just that I’m so . . .” She glanced at Groo from the office doorway. He was swinging a sword. “And he’s such a . . . grrrr . . . .” She turned and smiled as the three men. “Don’t you think?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Angel said awkwardly. 

“Certainly,” Wesley coughed. 

“Bloody marvelous,” Spike grumbled. 

“I mean, there’s gotta be other things we can do to relieve the tension!” Cordelia bemoaned. 

“Jogging could be a thing,” Angel suggested. 

“Or Yoga,” Spike added. 

“Perhaps some form of paranormal prophylactic . . .” Wesley started to suggest but then trailed off when he caught glares from both vampires. 

“I guess we could probably ‘com’ without actually ‘shucking’,” Cordelia mused as she watched Groo. 

“I don’t know about that, pet,” Spike commented. 

“That could be a slippery slope that once you’re on, that you could . . . slide,” Angel knew he was fighting a losing battle with her. 

Cordelia shrugged. “At least I won’t be upsetting the average around here. Everyone in _this_ office is pretty much celibate anymore.” 

“Hey!” Spike and Angel cried. 

“EUREKA!” Wesley shouted. 

The shout startled everyone including Groo who jumped into fighting stance with sword at the ready. 

“I’m sorry,” Wesley apologized. “I have to call Fred and Gunn in from breakfast. I found the demon!” 

Fifteen minutes later, Fred and Gunn strolled into the hotel with strange smiles on their faces and took a seat on the round settee. Everyone but Groo and Wesley seemed to notice. 

“Told you something was going on with those two,” Spike whispered to Angel. 

“I’ve identified the demon from Cordelia’s vision as a Senih’d,” Wesley said as he handed Gunn an open book. “We believe it will rise in the mid-city area sometime before nightfall.” 

Gunn looked at the illustration and then handed the book to Fred who sat beside him. Wesley’s lips thinned when he noticed their shared smiles as their hands lingered during the hand-off. 

Wesley cleared his throat and went on with the explanation as the book was passed around. “The Senih’d manifests in its physical form for one purpose only – to feed.” 

“Seen it,” Cordelia said as she passed the book on to Groo standing beside her. 

“Immediately upon rising, it will go to ground to search for a victim. We’ve got to make sure it doesn’t find one,” Wesley continued. 

Spike took the book from Groo and Angel looked at the illustration over his shoulder. Angel glanced at Groo then lifted up on his toes for a moment before dropping down again. 

“Angel and Spike will take the sewer tunnels. The rest of us will go by car to Sorensen Park. We’ll enter the underground from the water treatment plant there and from there, double back. Hopefully by the time we meet up again . . .” 

“I know this creature. It resembles the Bleaucha, which nest in the scum pits of Ur. I’ve slain many,” Groo announced. 

“Really?” Wesley asked, momentarily intrigued. 

“Tracking it will be simple. Killing it, more difficult,” Groo conceded. 

“Well, yeah,” Angel grumbled which earned him an elbow jab to the ribs from Spike. 

“All right then. Groo, you go with Angel and Spike. Let’s move out,” Wesley said as he spun on his heel to lead the way. 

Everyone stopped by the weapons cabinet to make their choice before leaving the hotel. Angel glanced up just in time to see Cordelia handing over a sword. 

“Here’s a nice one,” Cordelia smiled as Groo accepted it. 

“That’s my favorite broadsword!” Angel cried, nearly weeping at the sight of someone else handling _his weapon_. 

“I don’t know why you’re acting this way, Angel. You’ll be fine,” Wesley assured him with a pat on his shoulder before walking away. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?” Cordelia asked as she blindly handed Angel a weapon. “The sewers are pretty damp.” 

“I shall be fine,” Groo replied. 

Spike chuckled, watching Angel’s bewildered expression as the dark vampire turned the ax in his hand. There was a small head on it. Angel glanced up to see Cordelia kissing Groo on the cheek, unmindful of him. 

As Cordelia and Groo started to walk off together, Angel raised the blunt end of the axe, ready to strike one or both of them over the head. Spike’s quick reflexes stopped him in mid-swing with a hand on his forearm. The blonde pried the axe out of Angel’s hand and exchanged it for another weapon. 

“Here, take this one,” Spike said as he held out the sword he had gotten Angel for Christmas. 

“But, I didn’t want to use it unless I had to. I was saving it for a rainy day,” Angel pouted as he took the sword. 

“Well, it seems to be pouring now,” Spike quipped as he chose a weapon for himself and followed Groo to the sewer access. 

When the vampires caught up to him, Groo announced, “I shall present this beast’s head to my princess as a token.” 

“Right,” Angel commented sardonically. “’Cause she’ll love that.” 

**************************

“Do you sense anything?” Angel asked as the three of them walked along a tunnel. 

“Just the foul stench of sewer,” Spike replied. 

“I sense a deep sadness,” Groo said forlornly. The two vampires looked at him. “In my Princess,” he clarified. “She is unhappy. I fear I am the cause.” 

“No. No, she’s not unhappy you’re here, Groo,” Angel replied. 

“She’s bloody thrilled,” Spike added. 

“Then what keeps her from me? There is a distance – as if her heart is not free,” Groo asked as he continued on through the tunnel. 

“I-I think – that maybe she’s afraid to get too close. She’s, ah, scared if she does, she’ll lose something,” Angel said. 

“But I would give myself to her,” Groo said adamantly. 

Spike squeezed his eyes shut at that. “There’s an image I never wanted to see in my head.” 

Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the tunnel. Angel grabbed Groo by the shoulder to stop him. Stepping forward, he crouched down and examined a drop of liquid on the ground. 

“It is wounded. It bleeds,” Groo commented. 

Angel glanced up at Spike. “It’s better than bread crumbs. Let’s go.” 

They entered the sublevel of the water treatment plant Wesley had mentioned. The Senih’d dropped down behind them from the overhanging pipes. The trio spun around and attacked the demon. The Senih’d managed to disarm two of them easily enough, but they didn’t let that slow them down. While Spike continued to fight it with his sword, Angel and Groo jumped into the fray with their fists and Angel’s fangs. Angel looked worse for the wear, but held out against the monster until it let out an ear-piercing scream and broke through the wall to escape into the sunlit park outside. 

Spike snatched Angel back out of the flood of sunlight as Groo picked up his sword and ran through the hole in the wall. Upon realizing that the two vampires didn’t follow him, he turned back and gestured for them to follow, but Angel just squinted at him as he shrank back from the harmful rays. A woman’s scream distracted Groo and he left the vampires to run after the Senih’d. 

Angel pulled away from Spike and inched as close to the opening as he dared. From his vantage point, he watched as Groo rescued the young woman from the Senih’d. The demon tried to use the woman as a shield against Groo’s sword, but Groo managed to separate the demon from the woman. 

Then Angel saw Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Fred run over a rise in the park, just in time to see Groo catch the woman in one arm while he knocked the Senih’d down and stabbed it in the back of the neck. The demon dissolved into a black, oily puddle that seeped away into the pavement. The dark vampire watched the rescued woman hug Groo for saving her. 

“Well done,” he heard Wesley say to the warrior. He watched as Cordelia hugged Groo and the others pat him on the back. He heard Wesley compliment Groo again, “I must say: excellent work.” 

The people in the park gathered around the small group and applauded, thinking it was a performance. After congratulating Groo again, Wesley glanced at the hole in the side of the building and saw Angel standing just inside the shadows, watching them. After a moment, Angel hung his hand and Spike’s arm came into view as he took his mate under arm and they disappeared. 

“You can’t get them every time,” Spike was saying as they headed back to the hotel. Angel was silent, trudging beside him. When he received no answer, Spike went on, “So what if the guy can hunt demons, and go out in the light and kill them? He doesn’t have excellent night vision, or super speed, or preternatural senses, eternal life, sexual prowess that surpasses Caligula, and . . . he can’t fuck our Cordelia without her losing the visions.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Manager’s Office_**

“You think you know someone. You think your place is secure and that there’s a future there.” 

Angel sat behind the desk, across from a dark-haired woman, Ms. Frakes, and watched Groo as he re-enacted his fight with the demon for Cordelia, Gunn and Fred. 

“And then something happens,” she was saying. “No strike that! Some _one_ happens! They insinuate themselves, pushing you out, taking your place.” 

Angel watched Groo drop down beside Cordelia, catching her in a hug. He wasn’t upset that Cordelia finally had a boyfriend. What was gnawing at him was that his team – his _friends_ – was so accepting of the man. It was like Angel didn’t exist anymore. He was the Dark Avenger, damn it and they all acted like Groo was the original Avenger. Maybe he needed a vacation? He could go somewhere with Spike and leave Groo to take care of the business. 

Angel turned his attention back to Ms. Frakes who it seemed was waiting for him to acknowledge her plight. Clearing his throat his asked, “And what makes you think this other woman is a witch, Ms. – Frakes?” 

“Why else would Jerry cheat on me? We’ve been engaged for eight years! She had to have put some kind of spell on him,” Ms. Frakes insisted. 

“Eight years? Are you sure it wasn’t that he just gave up and found a new girl?” Spike asked from his perch on the edge of the desk. He received a scowl for his remark. 

Angel leaned back in his chair, considering the situation. “If you can give me the woman’s name, I’ll have someone check her out. See if we can find out if she’s a . . . witch.” 

“HotBlond37159,” Ms. Frakes said all-too-quickly as she handed over a sheaf of papers. “I got these off the emails that I took from Jerry’s computer.” 

“It’s, ah, gonna . . .” Angel looked up as Wesley walked into the office. “Uh, it’s gonna be pretty difficult to find her based solely on this.” 

“Well, just follow Jerry! I’m sure he’ll lead you right to her,” Ms. Frakes said. 

Angel handed the emails to Wesley. “Ms. Frakes here wants us to stake out her fiancé. I was trying to explain to her that . . .” 

“I think we can spare someone to keep an eye on Ms. Frakes’ fiancé. Gunn!” Wesley cut in, taking the papers. “Gunn! If witchcraft is involved, we should probably look into it.” Spike and Angel gave Wesley surprised looks that he was actually taking the case. 

“What’s up?” Gunn asked as he walked in. 

“Ah, Gunn, Ms. Frakes here needs some surveillance work. I thought that if you were free . . .” 

Gunn nodded. “Yeah, not a problem.” 

“Good,” Wesley said as he handed the emails over. “She’ll give you the details. I’ll leave it in your hands.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Fred smiled at Wesley as she came into the office. “We won’t let you down.” 

When they were out of sight, Spike scoffed. “Great going with trying separate those two, Percy. They’re as thick as thieves now.” 

“I-I am quite certain that I have no clue what you’re talking about Spike,” Wesley said uneasily. “I need to go to the book store.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Angel offered. He ignored the shocked expressions of his mate and Wesley as he clapped Spike on the shoulder in passing, “Make sure Groo doesn’t steal anything.” 

“By that you mean Cordy or your swords?” Spike smirked. He was rewarded with a glare. 

**************************

**_An Occult Book Shop in Los Angeles_**

Wesley browsed through the selection while Angel stood around, bored out of his mind. But seeing that his alternative was being in a hotel with Groo retelling how he bested the latest Big Bad, a musty book shop was the lesser of two evils. Thinking of which . . . 

“I don’t know,” Angel said distracted as he aimlessly flipped through a book and replaced it on the shelf. “Maybe they should just do it, you know? Get it over with.” 

“I’m sorry?” Wesley inquired. _They who, Cordy and Spike? Fred and Gunn?_

“Cordy and Groo,” Angel clarified, causing Wesley to breathe a sigh of relief as the dark vampire continued, “She’s being all noble for the good of the team. She should just make it with the com-shuck. That’s what she wants.” 

“Oh,” Wesley replied, hoping he sounded interested and thoughtful on the subject. 

“May I help you?” the clerk asked. 

Thankful for the distraction, Wesley replied, “Yes. I phoned earlier about Grammaticus Third Century Greek Commentaries.” 

The clerk nodded. “Of course. The G.T.C.G.C. I’ll be just one moment.” 

“Thank you.” 

Angel was still lost in his diatribe. “I mean, why not? Life is short. Okay, so not mine or Spike’s, but most people. And if Groo does it for her, she should go for it.” He selected another book and flipped through it blindly as he grumbled, “Make him happy. Make her happy. Spike would even give her tips on technique I’m sure. It’ll make everybody happy.” 

“But still – office romance – complicates things. What if they should have a row, or break up?” Wesley asked. 

“Spike and I do that on a regular basis already,” Angel said. “Hell, we all fight with each other at some point. I don’t see it changing things much.” 

“She did say it herself: it could risk the visions,” Wesley pointed out. 

“Okay, so the visions pass to Groo. He gets them instead of her. I don’t see the big deal,” Angel replied. 

Wesley studied Angel for a moment. “Are you suggesting that the Groosalug could replace Cordelia?” 

Angel continued to browse, mumbling, “Maybe not Cordelia.” 

“Ah. You think he could replace you.” 

Angel heaved a sigh. “Seems to me, here’s a guy who can do everything I can . . . and a few things I can’t.” 

“That’s not true,” Wesley countered. 

“You saw what happened this afternoon. If Groo hadn’t been there . . .” 

“Then the rest of us would have,” Wesley cut in. “Angel, you’re the reason we’ve all come together. It’s your mission that animates us. We each contribute, it’s true, but you – you’re unique. You’re like one of these rare volumes. A one of a kind.” 

Angel gave him a slight smile and then frowned when the clerk showed up with a stack of books saying, “I’ve got three of them.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley walked in with Angel, his prized tomes under his arm. “I’ll get started translating this material right away.” 

“Well, ah, Wesley – thanks – for what you said before. You put things into perspective for me,” Angel said. 

“Glad I could,” Wesley acknowledged. “While I do believe having another warrior for good may be an asset in the coming days. Truth is: you and the Groosalug are two totally different people.” He trailed off as he looked up to see Groo, his hair cut short, dressed in a set of Angel’s clothes. “. . . Who look exactly alike.” 

“Ah, hello,” Groo said in greeting. 

Angel gave a pitiful growl under his breath. “He’s wearing my clothes.” 

“And they are a good fit,” Wesley commented. 

Groo smiled up at them. Angel returned it with a tight smile of his own as he stormed through the lobby to the manager’s office. “Where’s Cordelia?” 

Cordelia stood up as Angel walked into the office, his face looked as if it would break under the strain of the forced smile. 

“You’re back!” Cordelia said cheerily. 

“He’s wearing my clothes!” Angel screeched. 

“What? Oh yeah,” Cordelia shrugged. “I-I didn’t think you’d mind. He couldn’t fit any of Spike’s clothes, but it turns out that you two are about the same size. He looks great doesn’t he?” 

“He’s wearing my clothes!” Angel repeated. 

Cordelia waved him off. “You said that already. Look, I need your help to have sex with him.” 

“You want me to what?” Angel asked perplexed. 

“I know it’s a personal favor . . .” Cordelia started to say. 

“You don’t say?” Angel gestured wildly at Groo through the office window. “He’s wearing my clothes! I’d say that was personal.” 

“I realized something today. It’s not the threat of losing the visions that’s been keeping me from being close. It’s me. The visions are just an excuse. I mean, there’s always _some_ excuse,” Cordelia said. 

“Right . . .” Angel prompted. 

“And you have Spike. I’m _tired_ of being lonely,” Cordelia whined. 

“Yeah . . .” Angel nodded in agreement. 

“So, I worked it out,” Cordelia continued. 

“You did?” 

“Yes! It was something Wesley said – a paranormal prophylactic. And that got me to thinking . . .” 

“Of course it would.” 

“It got me to _thinking_ that I couldn’t be the only woman on earth with some supernatural gift that could be lost through physical intimacy,” Cordelia said. 

“Uh huh, I still don’t see where this involves me,” Angel commented dryly. 

“I started researching and I’m right. There’s a potion, a protective potion. I take it and bang! I can . . . you know . . . with him.” 

“A potion?” Angel raised a brow. 

“Yeah, anyway, this woman’s name is Anita, and she’s kind of in the business. She makes love potions, elixirs, things like that. She says she’s got just the thing at this address,” Cordelia said as she scribbled the address on a Post-It note and handed it over. 

“What do you want me to do with it?” Angel asked, sounding even less pleased than before he arrived. 

“I went to my ATM, got cash,” Cordelia handed him a wad of bills. “It nearly cleaned me out, but I think it’s worth it.” 

“So you and Groo can . . .” Angel made strange hand gestures. 

“Com-shuck like bunnies. You betcha,” Cordelia replied all-too-quickly. 

“Why can’t you just send him?” Angel asked. 

“I _am_ sending him. He kind of insisted on it, but that’s why I need you.” 

“Huh?” Angel asked quizzically. 

“He doesn’t know this world. I can’t just send him into a demon brothel all by himself! I mean, I trust him, but I’m not crazy.” 

“A brothel? Why not send Spike then?” Angel asked as he glanced at the address. 

“Can you imagine Spike in a demon brothel? On the other hand, _you’d_ be safe there. No woman can tempt you, right?” Cordelia said matter-of-factly. 

Angel scoffed. “Right, I’m a vampire of steel fortitude.” 

Groo walked into the office and asked expectantly, “Are we ready?” 

“I think so,” Cordelia grinned. 

“We’re most grateful for your help, Angel,” Groo said as he slung an arm around Angel’s shoulder and hugged him. “You’ve been a true friend to us both.” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Angel said irritated. 

They walked out of the hotel, Groo’s arm still around Angel’s stiff shoulders. A few minutes later, Spike came out of the kitchen with a newly heated glass of blood. 

“Who was that?” 

“Angel just left with Groo,” Cordelia replied. 

“So, how’d the old Sire like Groo’s new makeover?” Spike asked behind his drink. 

“I don’t think he was happy in the least. Why didn’t you tell me that Angel wouldn’t approve of Groo wearing his clothes?” Cordelia admonished. 

“Princess, no man is happy with another man wearing his clothes. I know all you bloody women probably grew up sharing each other’s clothes, but for men it’s personal. Like someone else sleeping with your wife, personal.” Spike shrugged. “Besides, it’s good to get Angel going every now and then. It lets him know that he’s not always the center of the universe.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Demon Brothel_**

A businessman walked down the hallway of the well-lit mansion with a lady-demoness on his arm. They crossed paths with another lady as she came around the corner, followed by Angel and Groo. 

“I love your outfits,” the woman commented with a hint of amusement. 

“Well, I wouldn’t call them _outfits_ ,” Angel contradicted. 

“But you are together,” Anita asked. 

Groo squeezed Angel’s shoulder, “Yes! Two champions here together.” 

Angel shrugged away from Groo’s hand. “Not ‘together’ together, just ‘get the potion’ together.” 

“Yes, so I may com-shuck with my princess,” Groo said enthusiastically. 

“Just to reiterate,” Angel said, pointing to himself, “ _not_ the princess.” He turned towards the sound of laughter to see a couple romping on the bed of a reddish room. 

Noticing Angel’s sudden silence, Anita followed his line of sight through the doorway. “The room is enchanted. Everything that happens in there, every touch, every emotion, every desire is extended for maximum pleasure. I'd check the schedule if there is someone special you would like to bring.” With a knowing smile, she took Groo by the arm and led him down the corridor. After a moment, Angel started to follow. 

Angel got as far as the next room before he was distracted once more. He turned at the sound of tinkling laughter and looked through the doorway to see five exotically beautiful demonesses petting each other. The voyeur in him took over and he leaned against the doorjamb to watch. 

Feeling eyes on them, the five demonesses turned towards the door and their golden eyes locked on Angel. Two of them broke from the group and sashayed over to him. Each one grabbed a lapel and pulled his jacket off as they guided him into the room. Then his button shirt disappeared and he was pushed down into an overstuffed chair. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by five sultry beauties, with long dark hair and ample breasts rubbing against him. 

Angel had to remind himself that he was mated to another. Spike would probably get a kick out of his current situation, if for nothing else than to use it as fodder against him later. 

“Um, ladies, as much as this is – hey, watch the hands! – This is very flattering, and believe me, it is. I can’t stay. I have – oh, God, that feels good – I have champion things to do,” Angel tried to protest as their hands worked his body over in the best massage he’d ever experienced. 

Angel resisted their insistent tugging to gain his feet and not step on anyone as he made his way to his shirt and jacket. The five demonesses followed him with their eyes. Three of them crawled after him to grab for him only to snatch his shirt away. Miraculously, he managed to save his jacket. The demonesses were scenting his shirt in turns. 

He backed out of the room, watching them warily. “That’s fine. Keep the shirt. Don’t really need it anyway. Everyone seems to be enamored with my clothes today.” 

Angel stumbled out of the room and hit the wall adjacent to the door. He hurriedly walked down the hall to the room that Groo and the hostess were in. 

The woman turned towards him as he walked in. “You brought cash?” 

“Uh yeah,” Angel pulled out the money Cordelia had given him and handed the wad to the hostess. 

The woman took the cash and lifted one hand up into the air. A second later, a blue light enveloped her hand. She pulled it down and revealed a deep blue glass vial. 

She smiled at Groo. “Make sure to tell your princess to drink it all at once.” 

Groo took the bottle and the hostess looked coyly at Angel. “Did you find anything to your liking?” 

Angel was surprised by the question and stared at her, ignoring the ringing of his cell phone. 

Groo leaned closer and said, “Angel, your coat is singing.” 

Angel cleared his throat and made a motion for her to hold on as he answered the phone. “Hello? What? Gunn?” He turned away from Groo and the hostess. “I can barely hear you. Where are you? Under Plummer Park? What are you . . . have you called Wesley yet? I don’t understand. Bother him? Why would you bother him? Oh. Uh huh. Ah-huh.” Angel turned and held the phone out to Groo with a tight smile. “Uhm, it’s for you.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Later_**

Fred and Gunn walked in holding Groo up until they could sit him down on the round settee. Cordelia ran around the reception desk as soon as she saw her boyfriend. She didn’t even see Angel trudge in and lean heavily against the desk. As Fred and Gunn went into the manager’s office to report to Wesley, Spike came out of the kitchen with a glass of blood he had just warmed up for himself. Without thinking, Angel took it from him and drank nearly the whole glass before handing it back. 

Spike stared at him and then at the three-quarters empty glass, annoyed. “Hey! Damn it, you can bloody well get your own!” He sighed and set the glass on the counter then saw his mate’s appearance. “What the hell happened to you? Where’d your shirt go?” 

“Long story,” Angel grumbled. He winced when Cordelia ripped Groo’s borrowed shirt open, scattering buttons on the floor. 

“Sorry,” Cordelia apologized more to Groo than Angel. 

Thinking she was talking to him, Angel replied, “That’s okay. It, ah, was already ruined.” 

As she saw to Groo’s wounds, Cordelia replied absently, “If it’s any consolation, I planned to rip it off him later anyway.” Her head whipped around and glared at Angel. “You did get the potion, didn’t you?” 

Angel pulled out the slightly dented flask and held it up. “We got it.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad. You heal almost as fast as he does,” Cordelia commented, continuing to play doctor. 

“Princess, I – I have a confession to make,” Groo said gravely. 

“Groo,” Angel said in a loud whisper. When Groo glanced at him, Angel shook his head at him. 

Cordelia pulled Groo’s face back to look at her. “A confession? What – what confession? Did something happen at the brothel?” She glared at Angel. “You were supposed to look after him!” 

“I wouldn’t say Groo was the one that needed to be watched,” Spike commented to himself. It seemed that Angel had a go around with a few demons, if the pheromones were anything to go by. 

Angel quickly glanced at his mate. He should have known Spike would smell the five demonesses that had waylaid him in the brothel. He’d have to defend his actions to Spike later, for now he had Cordelia to contend with. “Nothing happened! Except your – boyfriend here was very brave, and . . . saved the day.” _Why did it have to sound like he choked on that last line?_

Cordelia smiled in awe at Groo. “You did?” She slapped his shoulder. “You big hero!” 

Groo shook his head erratically. “No! I was reckless! I put everyone in grave peril! _Angel_ is the true champion. He saved us all.” 

“Did you hear that?” Cordelia asked no one in particular. 

“Yeah, but . . .” Angel started to say, casually brushing off the coming praise. 

“How many guys would just give away the credit like that? That is just _so_ noble.” Suddenly her hand shot out. “The potion . . . now!” 

When Angel held it out, Cordelia snatched it then grabbed Groo by his ruined shirt and yanked him up off the settee. 

“Let’s get out of here! See ya!” Cordelia threw over her shoulder as she rushed to leave the hotel with Groo. 

“Cordelia?” Angel called after her. 

His voice stopped Cordelia in her tracks. She turned and looked back at him. When he only stood there, Cordelia pulled away from Groo and walked back to him. 

“What is it?” Cordelia asked quietly. 

Angel took one of her hands and put a roll of dollar bills in her palm. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s some money I had saved up,” he replied. 

“I don’t understand,” Cordelia said as she glanced between him and the money. 

“I did something for you tonight. Now I want you to do something for me. Don’t come in tomorrow. In fact, don’t come in for a couple of weeks. Take Groo some place . . . nice. Somewhere where there is sun. He’d like that.” 

“Angel . . .” 

“Promise me,” Angel insisted. 

Cordelia started to shake her head at the idea, looking down at the money. “Okay, if you’re sure.” 

“I am.” 

She turned to leave but then pivoted again. She reached out and touched the hole in Angel’s t-shirt where the tree-demon’s tentacle went into his heart. 

“Are you sure you don’t need patching up yourself?” she asked. 

Angel looked down at her hand over his chest. “No, I’m good. It didn’t hurt a bit.” 

Cordelia looked skeptical for a moment, then turned and walked out of the hotel with Groo. As soon as the door closed, Wesley stepped out of his office. Angel looked at him, and then tugged on Spike’s sleeve before heading up the stairs. Spike drank the rest of the blood, set the glass down on the counter and followed his Sire up the stairs. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Angel groaned as he walked into his bedroom and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Spike shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes before he crouched down to tug Angel’s shoes off. The dark vampire fell back on the bed with another groan of pain, allowing Spike to remove his shoes and socks. 

That accomplished, Spike climbed up on the bed and pulled Angel back up to a sitting position while he removed the coat and tossed it aside. Angel fell back on the bed again as Spike went to work on opening his jeans and pulling his torn shirt up. 

“So, are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Spike asked as he inspected the slowly healing wound. 

“Went to the brothel to get Cordelia’s potion,” Angel said. 

“Uh-huh, and . . .?” Spike prompted. 

“Got sidetracked by five demonesses,” Angel said tiredly. “They were pretty. Long dark hair . . . golden eyes . . . killer bodies. They stole my shirt. I’m lucky I got out of there with my jacket and my pants on.” 

“Sounds like a real hardship, mate. Was it like hedonism?” Spike asked. 

“They were massaging me. It felt really, really, really good,” Angel replied. 

Spike leaned over him and whispered near his ear, “So, what I’m getting from you is that you were seduced by a massage that was really, really, really good.” 

Angel slapped Spike’s ass half-heartedly for the mocking tone. 

“What? You’re the one that said it,” Spike teased as he returned to his task. “Go on.” 

“Anyway, Gunn called me to say he’d found that woman’s fiancé under Plummer Park,” Angel started to explain. 

Spike raised a brow. “Under it?” 

“Yeah, it was some kind of tree-demon that lured men through online personal ads and sucked them down. It used them like a battery. So, Gunn calls up and says that he and Fred were trapped under the Park by this thing and that they needed **_Groo_** to come and rescue them. **_Groo_**! Can you believe that? ‘M supposed to be the champion, Dark Avenger. They’re asking for him! We get down there and he goes charging in half-cocked. The demon let go of the woman’s fiancé and tapped into Groo. Idiot! _And_ to make matters worse, the damn demon thought he was magnificent! Magnificently stupid is more like it. There he was with this beer tap in his chest and I’m walking around, you know?” 

Spike nodded empathetically as he leaned down and licked the blood away from the edges of the wound. 

“I’m getting really tired of the Groosalug worship around here. Everyone makes such a big deal about him. He’s emotionally available, can walk around in daylight. But you know what? I’ve lived to be two-hundred and forty-eight years old. I’m smarter, I’m stronger and I can pick out my own clothes!” 

“I don’t know about that pet,” Spike murmured against Angel’s skin. 

He moved lower and swirled his tongue around Angel’s nipple until it pebbled under his ministrations. There was a low rumble of a moan when Spike moved to lick and bite the other nipple until it hardened. As he teased the nipple, Spike slid his hand down to Angel’s hip and then slipped inside the open jeans to wrap around Angel’s cock. Angel groaned and rocked up into Spike’s fist. 

“You know what you need, Angel,” Spike mumbled as he moved down Angel’s body. “You need a vacation.” 

“Mmm,” Angel moaned as his body slowly arched against Spike’s mouth. 

Spike kissed down Angel’s stomach, his navel and then wrapped his lips around the crown of Angel’s dick. The dark vampire let out a low growl when Spike’s tongue rubbed over the underside of the crown. Angel sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to thrust his shaft down Spike’s throat. He released a hissing breath when the mouth was suddenly gone. 

“What do you say about it, Angel? Tomorrow night after you’ve healed a bit, we go rent a lodge in the woods and take a vacation. We can even take Gunn, Fred and Wesley, if they want to come with us.” 

“Is now the best time to discuss this?” Angel asked in irritation. He wanted to return to the relaxed state brought on by what his mate was doing. “And, for future reference, never say ‘if they want to come with us’ again while I’m on my way to achieving what promised to be a very pleasant orgasm.” 

Spike chuckled. He pulled Angel’s jeans down further, smirking when Angel sucked in a breath at the air hitting his sacs. He wrapped his fingers around the engorged length and resumed teasing the crown and underside with his tongue until he was sure that Angel was in a euphoric state. When he was sure Angel was lost to the sensation, Spike gently worked his fingers inside the pliant body. Angel shuddered when Spike’s fingers hit his pleasure point. 

Spike slowly sucked down the length as he moved his fingers in and out, purposefully rubbing against the prostate. Angel languidly rocked his hips between Spike’s fingers and mouth, groaning his consent to his mate’s actions. He wasn’t oblivious to what Spike was initiating. Angel remembered what had occurred in the ballerina’s dressing room, most of it anyway. He remembered the pleasure of it even though the spirits had taken over his body. What Spike was doing now with his fingers didn’t feel threatening. 

Angel made sure not to jar his injured side as he reached down with his good hand and laced his fingers in Spike’s hair to gently, but firmly, direct his boy’s movements. He made a mental note to repay the favor when he was healed. 

It never mattered that they were on the outs when it came to this. They could be holding a grudge that extended for years and not talk to each other, but they were always drawn to each other and this. Nothing got in the way of this need for each other. Years and miles could separate them, but there was always a deep bond between them that went further than mere Sire/Childe, teacher/student. It was a bond that made him take the Sire-claim from Drusilla when Spike was a fledgling. It was the bond that made him renew it three years ago. No matter where they went, together or alone, they’d always be a part of each other. It was something beyond what he had with Buffy. And yet, he still managed to keep his soul intact with Spike. 

Angel gasped when Spike’s throat started to swallow and the movement teased the tip of his erection. He tried to thrust deeper for the full sensation, but Spike’s hand around the base of his cock stopped him. It was contradictory to the fingers pressing on his prostate causing the need to shove his dick down Spike’s throat. 

“Fuck, Spike,” Angel growled. He let out a cry of disappointment when the motion stopped and Spike’s head came up. 

“So, about that vacation, are you up for it?” The amusement in Spike’s voice could be heard through the roar in Angel’s ears. 

Angel slammed his fists against the mattress and growled in frustration at having his orgasm thwarted again for another question. Spike wasn’t going to give up on this vacation idea. He was holding Angel’s ever-elusive orgasm hostage for it. The way it was going he’d never get to cum. 

“Fine, we’ll go! Now finish me off, **_please_** ,” Angel stressed as he thrust his hips in the air towards Spike’s grinning face. 

“Well, since you begged so nicely,” Spike smirked. 

“I don’t beg,” Angel said gruffly. 

Spike shrugged and resumed teasing Angel’s prostate while he sucked around the head until Angel let out a deep, rumbling growl with his release. Spike tried to swallow as much as he could while Angel was still bucking with the force of his orgasm. 

When it was finally over, Spike pulled away. “Been a while since you had a decent orgasm, pet?” 

“Just wait ’til I’m healed,” Angel threatened without conviction. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, an hour later_**

Wesley sat at the desk in the manager’s office translating his new book when Angel came down to get a mug of blood to help in the healing process. Angel had left Spike upstairs flipping through TV channels. On his way back from the kitchen with mug in hand, Angel stopped in the doorway. 

“You’re still here?” 

Wesley’s head shot up at the voice. “Oh, Angel, you startled me. Yes, I’m just finishing this translation before I call it a night. Was there something you wanted?” 

“No, not really,” Angel replied as he took a drink. “Spike suggested we take a vacation. Maybe take Gunn and Fred with us. Would you like to go?” 

“Uh, I don’t know. With Cordelia gone and you apparently, someone has to be here to watch out for Wolfram  & Hart. And I have all this translation left to do on two other books . . .” Wesley trailed off. 

“Yeah, okay. Well, I guess it’ll just be me, Spike, Gunn and Fred if they want to go,” Angel shrugged. 

“Yes, I suppose it will,” Wesley said. 

“Night, Wes.” 

“Night.” 

When Angel left the room, Wesley looked down at the notebook and the words he’d translated so far: 

_‘The champion will fall from grace.’_


	24. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 47: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 14)_

**_Breckenridge, Colorado_**

Angel slipped the key in and turned the lock with the doorknob. He walked into the vacation home on French Ridge followed by Spike barging in with bags on each shoulder and Fred and Gunn behind him. 

“Home sweet home for the next few days, guys,” Angel announced as he pocketed the key and set his bag down beside the couch. 

Gunn spun around slowly, whistling low as he took in the amenities from the foyer. “Hot damn, Angel. How much did this cost?” 

Angel winced at the thought of the train wreck his MasterCard was going to be when he received the three-thousand dollar bill for renting a vacation home in Breckenridge of all places. “Let’s not think about the cost and just enjoy the next three days shall we?” 

“Fresh mountain air, two-storeys, three bedrooms, two and a half bath, LCD TV, VCR/DVD player with surround sound, state-of-the-art entertainment system, and a private hot tub in the historic Victorian District one block away from Main Street,” Spike recited from the brochure the proprietor gave them. 

Gunn let out a low, impressed whistle. 

“Well, I think it’s obvious who’s getting the master bedroom,” Spike announced. He dropped two bags at Gunn’s feet and, with the last one slung over his shoulder, he headed in the direction of the stairs and the master bedroom. 

“Look at the kitchen Charles!” Fred’s voice echoed off the stainless steel appliances. 

“An undead corpse steals the best bedroom in the place and my girl’s gaga over the kitchen. Man, I need to find myself a new life with different friends,” Gunn mumbled as headed in the direction of the second bedroom with his and Fred’s suitcases. 

Angel smirked at Gunn’s retreating back and then picked up his own bag and headed for the master bedroom. A dark room greeted him. It was an overcast sky when they arrived, which afforded the vampires a little leeway to act like normal humans while they checked themselves in. But now, Spike had already pulled the shades and was unpacking his bags, making himself more at home. Angel set his bag on the opposite side of the bed and started to do the same. 

“So . . . are you going to try out that private hot tub?” Angel asked conversationally. 

Spike looked up from his task with a raised brow. “Do you have something in mind? In a hurry to see me stripped down?” He smirked. 

Angel’s expression turned owlish as he innocently replied, “Uh, I don’t know what you mean.” 

Spike hummed. With a mischievous glance in Angel’s direction, he abandoned his luggage and headed for the hot tub on the enclosed sundeck. Out of curiosity, Angel followed his mate out of the bedroom. He had just reached the French doors that lead out to the sundeck when a pair of jeans slapped him in the face. When he looked up from the distraction, he saw Spike balancing on the edge of the hot tub. 

“Spike, be careful. You don’t want to fall and break your back --” he started to say. 

But he was too late. Spike jumped from the slippery edge and had just enough time to grab his legs before he landed in the cannonball position, splashing water all over the sundeck and a clothed Angel. 

“Again,” Angel finished. Sputtering water, he glared at Spike when the younger vampire finally surfaced. “Did you really have to do that? Now my clothes are all wet.” 

“So take them off,” Spike shrugged. “Come on, Angel, live a little. We’re on vacation and there’s only five hours ’til sunrise.” 

Angel dropped Spike’s jeans with the rest of the clothes strewn across the deck, shucking his own. Like any _normal_ person, Angel climbed into the tub and groaned as the hot water lapped at his skin. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation . . . until he felt his mate’s slippery body slide against his. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Spike chuckled softly in Angel’s ear. “Who knew that my Sire, the guilt-ridden King of Brooding could relax and benefit from a va-ca-tion?” he teased. 

“You can quit any time now,” Angel grumbled, his eyes still closed, “And, who said I couldn’t relax?” 

“Oh, just about everyone we know,” Spike replied sardonically and mimicked Cordelia’s voice, “Angel’s a tight-arsed, frugal bloodsucker with no sense of fun.” 

“I don’t think she ever said ‘arsed’, Spike,” Angel chided. 

“How do you know? It wasn’t like you were there.” 

“Where was I then?” 

“Probably on a job or sleeping, who knows?” 

“You’re an insolent pain in my ass, you know that?” 

“Yeah, I was once,” Spike smirked. “I can be again.” 

At that comment, Angel gave him a wary look. “Don’t count on it.” 

Spike adopted an embellished pout. “Come on, Angel. You know you enjoyed it.” 

Angel watched him with intense eyes. Gliding through the water, he caught Spike and pinned him to the side of the tub. He nuzzled into Spike’s neck as he slid his hand down to grip Spike’s erection. He felt nails dig into his shoulder when he started stroking. 

Angel pulled back to watch his mate’s reaction. Spike’s head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. Angel stroked faster, wincing a little when Spike’s nails flexed into his shoulder. Spike’s eyes were squeezed shut and he was biting his bottom lip. 

“Feel good, baby boy?” Angel whispered near his ear. 

The dark vampire ducked beneath the surface of the water, took his mate’s cock into his mouth and sucked leisurely, allowing Spike to thrust up with the sensation. Deciding to pay his boy back for teasing him two nights ago, Angel gently pressed his fingers inside Spike and searched out his pleasure point. He knew he’d hit it when Spike’s fingers tightened in his hair. 

He couldn’t hear Spike’s passionate cries, but the body underneath him bucked wildly with his ministrations. Angel continued to drive Spike to the brink until he tasted his lover’s essence on his tongue. He flicked his tongue rapidly over the tip, keeping Spike on edge until his body slumped in defeat. Angel gently extracted his fingers from Spike and rose up, breaking the surface of the water to see his boy leaning against the tub, spent and panting hard. 

“Spike, you don’t need to breathe.” 

“I’ll remind you of that when you have your brain sucked out through your cock,” Spike grumbled. 

The hot tub was smaller than Spike’s whirlpool tub at the mansion but the couple enjoyed it – between the splashing fights and playfully tugging each other under the water by the ankles. It was the most carefree Angel had felt since moving to L.A. three years ago. He felt a sense of rightness with Spike around. He didn’t dare give a name to it. What if he was wrong and it wasn’t what he felt at all? What if Spike didn’t feel it? The link between them still wasn’t open. It was more like a screen was between them than a door now. But, he still couldn’t slip into Spike’s mind without a hitting a roadblock. 

“Hey guys, Fred and I are going out to – hey! That’s more than I ever wanted to see of the undead,” Gunn said as he came out and saw them naked in the hot tub. His hand flew to his face, covering his eyes as he continued, “Fred and I saw an ad in the local newspaper for a midnight double feature playing at the multiplex in town. We were going to go check it out.” 

“Okay. Be careful,” Angel replied, trying not to laugh at Gunn’s reaction to seeing them naked. 

“I always am. See you later, and don’t cum in the water or anything. I may want to use it later,” Gunn said as he turned away and lowered his hand as he walked out. 

There was silence until the vampires heard the humans leave the house and they burst out laughing. 

“Let’s get out of here. I got an idea.” 

“The last time you had an idea, I ended up running from a mob in London,” Angel replied. 

“This one’s even better,” Spike insisted. “But we got to bundle up.” 

Angel had a feeling that curiosity was going to be the death of him one of these days. But, he climbed out of the tub, picked up his clothes and followed Spike into the house anyway. 

**************************

**_A Slope on French Ridge, Four Hours Later_**

Gunn and Fred returned to the lodge after the movie. It was 4:30 a.m. and the house was oddly quiet. They went out the back door to search the mountaintop outside. Suddenly, Gunn was blindsided by a snowball. 

“Missed me!” Spike yelled out. “Your aim is getting worse as you age, old man!” 

Seconds later, another snowball hit Fred in the side of the head. 

“Your aim is worse than mine ever was!” Angel yelled back. 

Gunn and Fred looked around, but couldn’t see anything. Then the moonlight glinted off Spike’s blond head as he hid in the bushes to the left of them. Gunn bent down and gathered up a handful of snow, shaped it into a ball and tossed it at Spike, hitting him in the head. 

“Oi! That was an ambush!” Spike cried in mock anger. He retaliated with his own snowball and hit Gunn square in the forehead. 

“That’s no fair . . . you guys are behind forts,” Gunn complained. 

“Hurry, Charles, get back here!” Fred yelled from somewhere behind him. 

When he turned he saw that she had found cover. He joined her and started building an arsenal of snowballs. Angel peeked out from his fort and saw that Spike was out in the open. He threw his snowball and hit Spike in the back. The blonde head ducked down and suddenly Angel was hit in the face with snow. He wiped a hand down his face and shook the snow out of his hair. 

Gunn’s head popped up from his fort and he steadied his aim just as a snowball hit him in the chest. He tossed his and hit Angel in the shoulder. Spike’s laughter peeled through the air at that. Fred tossed her snowball and hit Spike. The next thing they heard was grumbling and British expletives. Then, Fred was hit with snow from Angel’s direction. Fred shaped a bigger snowball and threw it, hitting Angel in the side of the face. 

The snowball fight went on for another hour, laughter ringing out from their perspective corners. The vampires could smell the new day approaching. They called a timeout on the count of honor and the coming sunrise. The group entered the house and went to their separate bedrooms. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

_Wesley stared down at his notepad and the words scrawled on it: **the champion will fall from grace**. He looked up and was surprised to see Angel standing there with a sword and shield, a set of wings adorned his back. Glancing down at the floor, Wesley saw a pile of white feathers on the floor with more falling off the wings. Then blood was dripping off the wings._

Wesley jerked awake and straightened his glasses. He stared at the space where Angel had been, but nothing was there. He looked at the clock and saw that it was late morning. He gathered his papers together. 

Yesterday a woman came to the hotel seeking help. She had lost her son when he snuck out to go to the pier and was nabbed by vampires. He had returned to her as a demon before exploding with the dawn of the new day. The woman piqued Wesley’s curiosity, so he followed her one day to an old rundown mansion where he saw a small group of kids no older than twenty years of age with Holtz as their leader. Today he was going to confront the vampire hunter. 

Wesley got up from his chair, stretched the kinks out of his back, and then grabbed his coat and keys. He didn’t know where to find the woman, but he knew where to start looking: the pier. It took some time, but he finally spotted her. Keeping a safe distance between them, he followed her back to the mansion. 

“It’s not important,” Holtz told her. “Of course, I am rather annoyed that you allowed yourself to be followed.” 

“Don’t blame her,” Wesley said before stepping out of the shadows as Aubrey and the others turned to look at him standing in the doorway behind them. “I would have found you eventually.” 

One of Holtz’s followers drew a knife and moved closer to the newcomer. “Maybe we should cut out his tongue and send a message to Angelus.” 

“Maybe,” Wesley mused. He suddenly drew back his fist and hit the man in the throat, dropping him to the ground. Holtz raised his hand to stop the others from advancing. “Or perhaps you could lie on the floor and gag for a while,” Wesley finished. He looked around at the group, daring them to make a move. “I didn’t come here to fight. I’m not your enemy. But then, I’ve noticed you do have trouble making the distinction. You’re fighting the wrong man.” 

“Angelus,” Holtz hissed. 

“No. Angel,” Wesley corrected. “He’s not Angelus anymore. He’s a good man.” 

“He’s not even a man,” Holtz said. 

“Nevertheless, he has a soul now,” Wesley replied. 

“Ah, yes, so that he might know the pain he has inflicted on his countless victims,” Holtz recited. “A brilliant curse, I must admit. Gypsies _do_ have a knack for creative vengeance. Where they fail, however, is in the execution of justice. And that I will have.” 

“If it’s a sacrifice you require, take me. Angel’s no more responsible for the crimes of Angelus than I am,” Wesley implored. 

“Really?” Holtz inquired with a raised brow. 

“Yes.” 

“Then tell me: was it your hands that held down my beloved Caroline as she was violated and murdered? Was it your hands that wrapped themselves around my son’s tiny neck and snapped it like kindling? Were yours the hands that clutched at my daughter as she was turned into a creature damned for all eternity? Angelus is in his nature. The beast will re-emerge. You’ve seen it. You know it. So why is it that you are here? Is it that you’re afraid for the vampire’s life or that of his paramour?” 

“Paramour?” Wesley asked perplexed. 

“The blonde demon that was with him when I last saw him. He is quite possessive of him, which leads me to believe that he is more than a friend or colleague,” Holtz clarified. 

“You mean Spike,” Wesley said as it finally dawned on him. “Your infiltration was more successful than I’d realized. Spike is his mate.” 

“I do not need prophecies to tell me what I already know. Spike – as you call him – will be his downfall. He has shown this weakness to an enemy. I shall exploit it in any way I feel is necessary to exact my revenge.” 

Wesley stuck his hands into his pockets. “I seem to have misunderstood. Here I thought it was a simple blood vendetta, when what you _really_ want is to cause him as much pain as he did to you. An eye for an eye. He has spent years trying to keep Wolfram  & Hart from discovering his connection to Spike. How did you find out?” 

“Any fool with a half a brain can see how Angelus acts around him. Angelus always turned on Darla, and she, in turn, left him for dead more times than I can count. Every time I caught one without the other, they were always too quick to give the other up. I have not seen that with this new addition. And the thought of Angelus running around for another two hundred years after I made a pact to get my revenge, that he could Sire more wretched creatures like himself, it only drives my need for retribution.” 

“He isn’t Angelus,” Wesley commented. 

“It’s time to make a decision, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. My army is strong and will only increase in number. Fight against us and this war will become a bloodbath,” Holtz urged. 

“This isn’t war. It’s revenge,” Wesley said. 

“What’s wrong with revenge?” Justine asked. “It’s all some of us have left.” 

Wesley looked at the members of the group in turn. “I can’t know what it’s been like for any of you.” 

“You might soon enough,” Holtz cut in. Wesley’s eyes came to rest on him. “When I put my son’s body into the ground, I had to open the coffin, just to know that he really was in there. Can you imagine how small a child’s coffin is, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce? It weighs nothing. Soon, Angelus’ _existence_ will mean nothing.” 

**************************

**_Breckenridge, Colorado_**

The small dining table was set for an intimate dinner for four. Each one of them pitched in with a dish they made. Angel had the main course, Spike chose the wine, Fred made a side dish, and Gunn cut up vegetables and fruit for a dessert tray. Spike filled the glasses as the others sat down to eat. 

A few minutes later, Fred turned to see Gunn staring at his full plate. “You barely touched your food, Charles. Are you feeling okay?” 

Gunn looked up at her as if just seeing her for the first time. “Yeah. Yeah.” 

“You aren’t changing your mind, are you?” Fred asked quietly. 

That question piqued the vampires’ interest and they looked up from their very rare steaks to watch the humans. 

“I mean, about . . . the wanting it all? As long as we’re not kissing on the job, or, you know, being sucked underground by a plant demon.” Gunn chuckled softly at that. “I say, why not go for it?” 

“Go for what?” Spike asked as he took a sip of wine, peering at her over the edge of the glass. 

Fred’s cheeks turned dark red with Spike’s question. 

“Vampire senses, pet,” Spike said simply. “Excellent hearing.” 

“I’ve been fighting vamps and demons since I was a kid,” Gunn said conversationally. “That sense of doing good – waking up in the morning and making the world safer, better . . . I’ve always had that.” 

Fred looked down at her plate, pushing the food around. 

A slow smile spread across Gunn’s face as he winked at the vampires. “But I never had a Fred before.” 

She slowly raised her head and looked at him. He leaned forward and tilted his head, looking at her. She started to smile just as he stole a morsel off her plate. 

“Hey!” she cried when she finally saw what he was up to. The vampires chuckled at the scene. Gunn laughed when she tried to swat at him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley sat at the desk in the manager’s office, the desktop was littered with papers, files and books stacked two layers high. He ignored the first soft rumblings, thinking that a semi had passed by outside and shook everything in the vicinity. A few seconds later, a harder earthquake hit and books started tumbling off the shelf behind him. The picture covering the wall safe was knocked askew and things fell off the desk. Wesley jumped out of his chair, abandoning his research and ran for cover in the doorway. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Lilah sat working at her desk when the earthquake hit. Looking around her office as prized collector pieces fell off the display cases, a smile spread across her face. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Abandoned Mansion_**

Justine stood, her legs braced against the shaking. Holtz turned to look at her. When he discovered the source of the noise, he pushed her out of the way of a falling shelf and tackled her to the ground. Justine looked up into Holtz’s face as he lay on top of her. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Wesley stood in the doorway and watched the earthquake wreck havoc in the lobby. Then a prophecy he was researching came to him. 

“Earthquake . . .” 

**************************

**_Breckenridge, Colorado_**

After dinner, Fred suggested something none of them had tried before. 

“You know, this is the whitest sport in history . . . next to hockey,” Gunn said as he tried to shuffle to the side of the mountain in skis. “When have you ever seen a brother in skis?” 

“What about the movie about the Jamaican bobsledding team?” Spike asked as he shuffled up beside him. 

Gunn gave Spike a sidelong glance. “I don’t do that either.” 

“Quit complaining Charles,” Fred said as she lowered her goggles. She looked like an aviator from the days of clapboard, open-air planes. 

“Come on Gunn, live a little. We’re on vacation,” Angel added as he shuffled up beside Spike. 

The blonde vampire gave his mate a skeptical look. “Those words coming from a demon who’s wound so tight that if he ever let loose he’d go spinning like a top?” 

“I’m not wound up,” Angel said defensively. 

“Want to bet, luv?” Spike asked. 

With that he shoved his mate down the hill. Angel bobbed and weaved, windmilling his arms as he fought to keep his balance. Somehow, his flailing turned him around and he was skiing backwards down the hill. 

“Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkeeeeee!!!” Angel’s voice echoed as he raced down the hill. Out of nowhere a tree appeared in his path and he grunted when his back hit the trunk and the impact dropped snow down on his head. Shaking the flakes out of his hair, he growled low. “That boy is going to get it the next time I get my hands on him.” 

At the top of the hill, the trio watched Angel ski backwards down the hill. Gunn and Fred’s expressions were more on the shocked side than Spike’s. He took off down the hill after Angel, skiing face-forward. 

“Whoooohoooooowweeeeeee!” Spike yelled as he skied down the hill past Angel who glared daggers at him. 

Backat the top of the slope, Gunn watched Spike for a moment and then turned to Fred. “Well, ladies next?” 

An hour later the foursome trekked their way back to the lodge and propped their skis against the side of the house. The second Gunn and Fred stepped inside, he started to tease her until she squealed and ran for their bedroom. Watching her for a moment, he turned and wiggled his eyebrows at the vampires. With a quick “good night”, he followed Fred. 

Angel and Spike shared a look as Gunn disappeared. 

“Kids these days,” Angel commented. He stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back from slamming into the tree at sixty miles an hour. 

“Okay, fine mate, I’m starting to feel bad for you now, poor sod,” Spike said sincerely. “If you want, I can work the muscles for you.” 

“Well, considering you’re the reason I’m in pain in the first place,” Angel replied and shrugged, then winced from the pain. “Sure, why not?” 

“Come on, big guy,” Spike slapped him on the shoulder, causing him to grimace. 

Spike led the way to the upstairs bedroom and turned the bedside lamp on low by touching it. Angel shut the door behind him and proceeded to remove his clothes. Spike followed suit. Angel climbed onto the bed and lay on his stomach while Spike located some oil and climbed on the bed. He straddled Angel’s waist and poured a light layer of oil down Angel’s spine. 

Spike massaged the oil into his mate’s back, gently searching for and working out the kinks. There was a huge, dark bruise coloring Angel’s back where he hit the tree. Noting the black and blue area, Spike really did feel guilty for pushing him down the hill, though he said nothing. He felt bad but not enough to apologize for it. Sliding his hands over the smooth expanse of flesh, he encountered a bump and then two more, further up. 

“I think you slipped a disk or two, Ang,” Spike commented softly. “Let’s see if we can popped them back in.” 

Angel groaned into the pillow as Spike felt around the area. Spike pressed down on the bulge until it slipped back into place. Angel yelled into the pillow. The second disk was less painful as it was pushed back into place. With the third, Angel imagined that he could sink into the mattress and not come out for another century. The process hurt like hell, but damn if it didn’t feel better. He could already feel his body knitting itself back together. 

“Feel better?” Spike chuckled at the drawn-out groan from his Sire. 

“Mmmmmm,” Angel said into the pillow. He turned over on his side, grabbed Spike and yanked him down on the mattress beside him. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at his boy for the longest time. 

Spike was starting to feel like he was under a spotlight with the way Angel looked at him. “What?” 

“Nothing, just thinking about us,” Angel replied, “and how glad I am that I took your advice to go on this vacation . . . the collision with the tree notwithstanding. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.” 

“See what happens when you take my advice? You should listen to me more often,” Spike smirked. 

“I’ll make a note of that for future reference,” Angel whispered, staring at Spike. 

He caressed his fingertips over Spike’s face, rubbing his thumb over a high cheekbone. Eyes slid closed as their lips met. Spike clutched at Angel’s hip and pulled the other vampire against him, rubbing their erections against each other as the kiss turned passionate. 

Angel moved his hand down to tease a nipple, pinching the nub then tugging on it before releasing. Spike moaned into the kiss and rocked against him. Wrenching his mouth free, he looked down between them as he tightened his hand around his and Angel’s cocks, squeezing them together and stroked. 

Angel crushed Spike tight against him, rocking gently into his boy’s fist as he licked over his turning marks. In the three years they’d been together since Angel first reopened the Sire-Claim and inadvertently initiated the mate claim, Spike’s body had scars from neck to pelvis due to his ardent biting. 

Spike’s face was buried in the curve of Angel’s neck when suddenly the dark vampire sank his teeth deep into his claim marks. Angel buried his fangs all the way before retracting them and swallowing one mouthful after another of the thick blood that splashed on his tongue. 

“Bloody hell, Angel,” Spike swore. He couldn’t blame his mate for biting him. Angel needed the blood to heal his back. However, a little warning would have been nice. 

Angel bucked against Spike, rubbing their cocks harder together, thrusting into Spike’s tight fist. He groaned as his boy’s blood slid down his throat. Tasting Spike’s blood, a flavor that was so familiar, was intoxicating – every time. He could taste everything in Spike’s blood: family, home, deep-seated loyalty that was always present even when they weren’t on speaking terms. There was a twinge of something he couldn’t name, but he let it pass. For now, he was the most content he’d been in a long time. Licking the wounds clean, he closed them and kissed Spike in gratitude, letting his boy taste the blood. 

“Feel better?” Spike whispered, absentmindedly running his hand down Angel’s back in a soothing caress. 

“I will be in the morning,” Angel half-smiled and closed his eyes to hide the raw emotion that crashed through him. He thrust against Spike until his body stiffened, his release erupting between their bellies. 

**************************

In the second bedroom, Gunn lay on his back in bed with Fred curled up against his side. 

“I feel so much better now that they know about us,” Fred said quietly. 

“Yeah, feels good not having to hide it,” Gunn agreed. 

“What if Wesley makes us choose?” she asked apprehensively. 

Gunn pressed his lips to the top of her head and hugged her close. “If we have to – I choose you.” 

“There still seems to be tension between Angel and Spike. Do you think they’ll ever resolve their problems?” 

“They’ve known each other for a century. That’s a long time to accumulate baggage. They’ll probably still be working things out in another hundred years, babe. Stop worrying about everything or you’ll make yourself sick.” 

Fred giggled. “If I do, you’ll be there to take care of me, right?” 

“Sure, I’ll hold your hair out of the way and all that,” Gunn replied as seriously as he could manage. “Now give that pretty little head of yours a break, stop worrying so much and get some sleep. We have one more day and then we go back to the real world tomorrow night.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

_Spike walked into the manager’s office and stopped in the doorway. Wesley was bent over the myriad of books littering the desk, oblivious to everything around him._

_“You’ve been cooped up in this office for days, Percy. Why don’t you go out for dinner or something?” Spike asked._

_Wesley continued to study his books and work on his prophecies as if Spike wasn’t there._

_“Percy? Percy? Wesley!” Spike finally yelled._

_When Wesley’s head jerked up at the sound, he saw Spike’s face change to his demon and his eyes turn red. Wesley gasped and jerked back in shock._

Wesley gasped and sat up from his position of sleeping hunched over his books. He looked around the room, but no one was there. The lobby was quiet as well. The nightmarish image sent him into another flurry of research of how Spike might be part of the doomsday translation he’d been trying to decipher.


	25. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 48: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 15)_

**_Breckenridge, Colorado_**

The early evening mountain air was already frigid outside the windows, shuttered behind the heavy curtains. Inside, three fat candles sat on the nightstand, their light giving the room a warm glow. On the bed, two vampires lay entwined, fused at the mouth. 

The blonde vampire kicked free of the cumbersome tangle of sheets as he rolled his lover over onto his back. The dark vampire opened his mouth, allowing the blonde to explore the recesses, but then turned the tables and rolled the younger vampire under him. His hand slid up his lover’s arm, caressing the smooth skin and linked their fingers together. The dark vampire swallowed the blonde’s groan when he thrust forward into the smaller body. Breaking the kiss, he moved lower to suck on the scar that marred the blonde’s otherwise perfect neck. 

Spike groaned and pressed his head against Angel, nudging against him and clawing his nails down Angel’s back over the gryphon tattoo as he arched under his Sire’s touch. Suddenly, he found himself rolled over onto his stomach under his mate’s bulk. He growled and arched when Angel penetrated his body simultaneously with fangs and cock. Spike gripped the iron posts of the headboard until his knuckles turned white while Angel had a death-grip on his wildly bucking hips as he rode him hard, rubbing his throbbing erection against the mattress. 

“Fuck, Angel! I need to cum, now!” Spike growled through clenched teeth. His response was his mate thrusting harder, subsequently rubbing his cock raw against the bed linens. Spike was afraid to even try and open his mind to Angel now. As animalistic as their coupling had become on this vacation with Angel’s voracious passion, Spike knew it would engulf him like a tidal wave crashing through his body. 

Angel suckled at the rich blood that trickled over his tongue. He barely heard Spike’s growls over the roaring in his ears as he continually tried to bury his cock deep inside the receptive body under him. 

“Angel, please,” Spike gasped, feeling his Sire fill him even as his blood poured into the other vampire’s mouth. 

Spike’s voice registered in Angel’s brain, but he couldn’t break away to respond. All of his attention was drawn to the overpowering, euphoric sensation rushing through his veins. Those sensations drove him to surge deeper into Spike’s body, until he couldn’t move another inch. With his cock buried as deep as possible, Angel bit down into Spike’s neck until he hit his gum line with a growl. 

“Jesus Christ, Angel!” Spike yelled as the orgasm ripped through him. 

Retracting his fangs, Angel swallowed the blood in great gulps as he bucked against Spike and poured his essence into his mate. His body was still shuddering from the explosive climax three minutes later. 

Spike collapsed when Angel released him and fell back on the bed. Spike dozed as Angel panted from the heady elixir. He could feel Spike’s blood rush through his body. It was almost like being alive. Angel stared at the ceiling waiting for his adrenalin to slow down. Sex with Spike was intoxicating, to say the least. 

“Spike?” 

“Mmm?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mmmhmmm.” 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” 

“What can be said after something like that?” Spike mumbled. 

Angel turned to look at Spike and saw the damage he’d wrought. The bite mark was already healing, but it would leave a jagged scar. He was a clean biter, normally, but Spike’s neck was going to resemble that of an animal attack. 

“God, Spike, I’m so sorry,” Angel whispered. He leaned closer and licked away the traces of blood. 

“No you’re not. You enjoyed it too much, ponce,” Spike grumbled into the pillow. 

“Okay, so I’m not completely sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I don’t know what came over me,” Angel said apologetically, lazily trailing his fingertips along Spike’s spine. 

“I get that reaction a lot,” Spike teased and was rewarded with a slap to his bare ass. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Day_**

“We’re back!” 

Wesley glared at his translation of ‘ _The Champion Will Fall From Grace_ ’. He looked up when he heard Fred’s voice and saw her, Gunn, Spike and Angel come into the lobby. He closed a book over the notepad and slowly stood up, stretching the kinks out of his back. He walked out of the manager’s office with a solemn look on his face and met the group at the reception desk. 

“Geez, Wes! Have you been in there all weekend?” Angel asked, glancing at the office window and the books littering the desk. 

“It was a rather tough prophecy to translate,” Wesley started to explain. 

“What the hell happened to the hotel?” Gunn cut in as he surveyed the cracks in the walls. 

“Uh, there was an earthquake . . .” Wesley started to explain the situation. 

“Right, mate, I’m sure it was very exciting, but the story will have to wait until after I’ve had a few glasses of blood,” Spike cut in as he dropped his bags and headed for the kitchen. “I can’t imagine why I’ve so ravenous.” 

Angel glared pointedly at Spike’s back and then cleared his throat when his three companions looked in askance at him. 

“What?” he shrugged and shook his head. Just then the low sounds of a guitar and a woman’s voice could be heard from the courtyard. “Who is that singing?” 

“Oh, Lorne is seeing a client in the garden,” Wesley explained absentmindedly. 

“She’s good,” Angel commented as he headed for the double doors. He walked out and stood in the shadows of the terrace. 

A young woman with long blonde hair sang, “I fell so far . . . a light went out in my heart. You’re gone . . . now I’m left alone in the dark.” She stopped and turned to Lorne, “Do you see anything?” 

“I see you’re plenty scared. It’s alright. Keep going,” he replied. 

She continued to sing as Angel went back into the hotel just in time to see Fred come down the stairs with her cell phone. She’d apparently gone up to her room and put her luggage away. 

“Are you crazy? It’s the best state in the Union,” she was saying. “What’s wrong with Texas? Texas doesn’t hate the black man. Texas _loves_ the black man. Well, most of Texas, anyone with a brain, at least. What’s so great about California?” 

The doors opened behind Angel and Gunn walked in from stowing his luggage in his truck, talking on his cell phone. “Everything: it’s got the climate, the ocean . . .” 

“The earth that opens up and swallows you whole,” Fred interjected. 

“The Lakers, the music,” Gunn cut in as they walked across the lobby towards each other, still talking on their phones. 

“The traffic, the smog,” Fred added. 

“It’s got you,” Gunn smiled as he stopped in front of her. 

Fred closed her phone and smiled back. “Okay, you win.” 

“Hi,” he grinned foolishly. 

“Glad to see you’re using the company phones for such important calls,” Wesley grumbled. 

Gunn closed his phone and asked sardonically, “Did you want me to pay for that?” 

“Oh, leave off, Wes. Let the lovebirds have some fun,” Spike said as he joined them with his fourth glass of blood in hand. He’d spent the last several minutes in the kitchen drinking blood as soon as the microwave could work its magic. 

Just then, Lorne popped his head in the door. “Ah, guys? I think there’s something you should . . . ah, can you come here for a sec?” 

Spike, glass in hand, followed the group out to the courtyard. He and Angel stayed in the shadows of the entrance as the others crowded around the terrace. 

“Everybody, this is my friend, Kim,” Lorne said as he put his arm around the girl’s shoulder. Addressing her, he assured her, “It’s all right. They’re professionals. Just take it from the chorus.” 

Kim started to sing, “My heart is breaking in two . . . no love, no light left, no you . . .” Suddenly, her face morphed into that of an ugly, gray-skinned demon and she growled, “I’ll hack your eyeballs out and rip your children in two!” Green drool started to drip from her mouth. As quickly as it appeared, her face morphed back to human. 

“It’s okay. I got you. It’s all right,” Lorne whispered to her as he hugged her. Turning to the others, he commented, “Catchy finish, huh?” 

“Kim, if you would come in to the office, we’ll discuss . . . you’re situation and have it cleared up in no time,” Wesley suggested. 

Kim carried her guitar into the hotel and set it down the round settee in the lobby before following Lorne and Wesley into the office. Fred hurried to make the woman a cup of tea as the others piled into the small office. 

“Kim is good people,” Lorne explained to the room. “She came to see me a couple of years ago.” 

“He put me on my true path,” Kim filled in. 

Lorne smiled indulgently. “She was throwing her life away in medical school when she should have been a singer.” 

“Yeah, who needs more doctors in the world when you can have singing demons,” Gunn commented. 

“Well, the demon part is new,” Kim said. 

“She hooked up with the band a couple of weeks ago and . . .” Lorne started to explain. 

“They were mellow, organic types. They never touched drugs or played a diminished chord,” Kim cut in. “Then they started changing. Stevie, the lead guitar player, grew a seventh finger like overnight.” 

“Seventh?” Spike brows rose. 

“He already had six. I just thought . . . I don’t really know what I thought,” Kim shook her head. “And Raw, the drummer, suddenly sprouted that spiny thing on his back.” 

Wesley and Fred wore gloves as they bent over a microscope sitting on the desk. 

“And they started playing this beyond industrial trash noise funk day and night. And then it happened to me. Well, you all saw it. Am I going to turn into that?” 

“No. You’re human,” Wesley assured her as he looked up from the microscope. “They’re not. What’s happening to you isn’t permanent. It’s just an infection.” 

“Which you can get rid of by taking twenty milligrams of Cylenthium powder twice a day for a month,” Fred added. 

When Kim looked confused, Lorne explained, “It’s a mystical antibiotic. I’ll get you some.” 

Fred held up a glass slide. “I thought your saliva was suspect, what with being green and all – no offense, Lorne. Under the microscope it showed traces of Penloxia.” 

“Oh,” Lorne said. 

“They’re Wraithers?” Spike inquired. 

“What’s that?” Kim asked. 

“Demons that can make themselves look human for a time,” Wesley replied and showed her an entry in one of the many books scattered across the desk. “Ten days, two weeks and then they revert back to what they really are.” 

“I wonder why they would want to look like musicians,” Gunn inquired. 

“For the chicks,” Angel replied, “Musicians always get the chicks!” When everyone looked at him, he scoffed, “What? They’re going to appear as dentists? Let’s take them out. Where are they?” 

“In a rehearsal space,” Kim replied. “It’s an old loading dock behind the Shop ’n Go in Echo Park.” 

“Percy?” Spike prompted. 

“You’ll have to kill them. It’s the only thing you can do with Wraithers. You, Angel and Gunn can go. Fred, stay here and watch the shop. I have some business to take care of.” 

“I’ll just stay here with Fred and Kim until you get this all sorted out,” Lorne offered. 

“Guys, shouldn’t we call Cordelia and the Groosalug back into action? I mean, if one of us gets hurt, say, killing Wraithers for example. We’re going to need some backup around here, right?” Fred suggested. 

“Nah, I don’t want to disturb her. It’s the first real break she’s had in years,” Angel replied. 

“Besides, it’s only a couple of Wraithers. What could go wrong?” Spike added. 

“Three, actually,” Kim interjected. 

“See, piece of cake!” Angel said excitedly. “I’m up for it! Who’s with me?” 

**************************

**_Loading Dock in Echo Park_**

The band played their industrial-punk music while a couple of girls danced in front of the stage. 

Suddenly, a trash can shattered one of the windows beside the stage and the music abruptly ended. Gunn stepped through the broken window with a crossbow in hand, followed by Angel and Spike who were holding a large comforter over their heads to shield them from the deadly UV rays. 

“Dude! You’re paying for that window,” the singer yelled. 

“No, I’m not,” Gunn replied. 

The drummer stood up behind his drum kit. “Wait, are you the A &R guys? This isn’t even the whole band. We got a killer chick who sings! Hey, don’t worry about the window, Holmes.” 

“We’re not the A&R guys. We’re just here to kill you,” Angel announced. 

“Ah, dude, they want to kill us,” the drummer sounded bummed over it. 

“Okay, but they’re still paying for the window,” the singer said. 

The drummer leapt off the stage and Gunn hit him, sending him stumbling back against the stage as the groupies let out a scream. 

“Get out of here, you stupid bints!” Spike yelled as he jumped into the fray. 

Gunn raised his weapon as the three Wraithers squared off against him. The demons suddenly came to a halt. 

“Oh, come on! Take it like a demon!” Gunn whined. 

Twin growls sounded and Gunn turned to see that Angel and Spike were snarling at them in full vampire visage. They leapt at the stage from opposite sides, tackling the three demons to the ground. Then, they started to pummel the demons like there was no tomorrow. 

Gunn stared in shock as his friends turned the stage into a fighting arena. He kicked the occasional Wraither when it came his way, but Angel and Spike were tossing them around like rag dolls. Gunn shot one of the Wraithers in the throat with an arrow. All was quiet as Spike and Angel each tossed a demon aside. 

Still in vampire visage, Spike tossed an arm aside, “That was fun. I haven’t had a good brawl like that in ages.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Holtz’s Mansion_**

“Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, how nice to see you again,” Holtz said as Wesley was caught up by two of his men upon entering the room. 

Turning to see the intruder, Justine demanded, “What the hell do you want?” 

“Don’t be rude, Justine. He’s our guest,” Holtz admonished. He signaled the men to release Wesley and leave. “And in the throes of a very difficult decision, I’d imagine.” He used his knife to cut off a slice of apple and offered it to Wesley. 

“No thank you,” the former watcher declined. “I don’t want to see anyone get hurt: your soldiers or mine.” 

“I share your hatred of violence, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce and I’ve made out a good deal of it in my lifetime than Angelus has in his.” 

“ _Angel_ ,” Wesley clarified. 

“Whatever you wish to call him,” Holtz shrugged. “I will never agree that he has somehow been absolved from the past by the presence of his soul.” 

“He’s a vampire, end of discussion,” Justine said as she stepped closer to Wesley, brandishing a knife. “And I bet you a dollar this one’s here to stab us in the back.” 

Wesley just looked at her, unfazed. “Who did you lose?” 

“What?” Justine asked, taken aback by the question. 

“You’re in Holtz’s army, ready to kill others and die for the cause. You must have lost someone very important to you,” Wesley surmised. 

“That’s none of your business,” Justine scowled. 

“Her twin sister Julia was murdered by vampires,” Holtz replied. 

“You’ve lost family. I’m sorry,” Wesley said in all sincerity as he stepped closer to her. “Angel and the people I work with are _my_ family. When I say I don’t want to see anyone get hurt . . .” he suddenly grabbed Justine’s knife hand and twisted her around so that her back was to him, grabbing her throat with his other hand, “I mostly mean them.” 

Holtz held up a hand to stop the rest of his group from interfering as Justine gasped for breath in Wesley’s grip. 

“I don’t stab people in the back,” Wesley said menacingly as he tossed her back to Holtz. 

“You’re an honest man,” Holtz stated as he took the knife from Justine. “I trust you, and you can trust me.” 

“Funny that I don’t,” Wesley said. 

Sitting back down, Holtz continued, “Your problem isn’t with me right now. Your problem is with Angelus and that abomination he’s mated to. You know you have to do something about it. You know that if you don’t, I will.” He stood up and moved closer to Wesley. “Don’t misunderstand me, I won’t attack and endanger other innocent lives unless I’m forced to. But I will make that demon pay for what he did to my Caroline and my children.” 

“How long do I have?” Wesley asked. 

“I’ll give you one day. You may not trust me, but I trust you to do what’s right. Twenty-four hours, after that . . . _anyone_ standing in my way will get hurt.” 

Wesley left the mansion without another word. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“So, Sammy’s at the Flamingo, and Frank, Dino, Peter, Joey and Shirley are all front row center. Well, Sammy starts singing **_I Did It My Way_** , and then he stops and says ‘I can’t sing this song in front you, Frank.’ The crowd loves it. They’re laughing. So, then Frank calls out, ‘Hey, you’re short, you’re one-eyed, and I heard somewhere you’re Jewish. Don’t be intimidated!’ The crowd goes wild,” Lorne said, regaling Fred and Kim with stories of the Rat Pack. He broke off as the door opened and Spike, Angel and Gunn strode in. “So, how’d it go?” 

“The Wraithers are no more,” Gunn replied. 

“We tore them apart,” Angel said. 

“Literally,” Spike added. 

“Well, okay then, I think it’s safe to escort Kim home,” Lorne said. He helped her up and walked with her out of the hotel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Night_**

Wesley walked down the sidewalk heading for home. A child ran out of a house to greet his father as Wesley passed by on the way to his apartment. After the father took his child back inside, Wesley stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he whispered and then louder, “I know you’re better at following people than this.” He turned around and after a moment Justine stepped out from behind one of the trees, lining the road. “So, what’s your game?” 

“I just . . .” she stepped closer, “Need to talk to you. I’m alone. He doesn’t know that I’m . . . I want to talk to you about him.” 

“Holtz?” Wesley clarified. “He’s a great guy, not overly tall. Is this where you offer to help me behind his back?” He turned and started walking away. 

“Do you believe in _anything_? Or is it all just a big scam to you?” Justine asked as she followed him. 

“You’re a soldier, fight to the death kind, I respect that. You work for a man you think is noble and good, I respect that, too. Trouble is he’s not.” 

“You work with a vampire.” It sounded more like an accusation. 

Wesley turned to face her. “Who in fact _is_ noble and good. Quirky, but there it is. Holtz talks about justice and it’s stirring, but what he wants is revenge. He’s driven by it, blinded by it, and if you, me, or anyone else gets in his way, he’ll kill for it.” 

“You’re wrong,” Justine insisted. “You don’t know him. Everything he’s done for me, for all of us . . .” 

“It sounds like a nice little cult,” Wesley said. 

“He gave you his word,” she said. “He’ll keep it. You’re the one who’s blind.” 

“How so?” 

“What you’re about to do to your friend? I imagine it’s easier to hate Holtz than yourself.” 

“There’s enough to go around for both him and me,” Wesley said blandly. “Be careful,” he warned before walking away. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, an Hour Later_**

Wesley walked into the lobby and saw Spike at the reception desk perusing a medieval weapons catalog. 

“Where are Fred and Gunn?” Wesley asked. 

“Out, getting food,” Spike replied, not looking up from his catalog. “That girl can put it away.” 

“And Angel, Lorne?” 

“Lorne took that woman home. I haven’t seen him since and Angel’s in the shower,” Spike said finally looking up at Wesley. 

Wesley squeezed his eyes shut at the image that popped into his head. “Thank you for the image I now have to scrub from my mind, Spike.” 

“Glad to be of service, mate,” Spike smirked as he got to his feet, grabbed his jacket and a stake before heading for the door. “Now that you’re back, I’m going out to patrol. Unlike you lot, I can’t sit around and wait for a case to fall in my lap. If the pouf asks, send him out to help.” 

Wesley opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Even if he did warn Spike about the possible dangers Holtz and his small group posed, he didn’t think Spike would appreciate the gesture. He watched Spike leave and then went back to his books. 

Twenty minutes after Spike left, Angel came down the stairs. Seeing no one in the lobby, he poked his head in the manager’s office. “Where is everybody?” 

“Fred and Gunn went out for food. Lorne still hasn’t returned from taking that girl home,” Wesley replied. 

“Have you ever heard of a time-traveling demon by the name of Sahjhan?” Angel asked. 

“No, who is that?” Wesley asked. 

“He brought Holtz here. I’ve seen him around a couple of times. Like in that alley when Holtz had his crossbow trained on me. I don’t know him from Adam. Maybe you can hit the books?” Angel suggested. 

Angel and Wesley turned to see Fred and Gunn come in the front door ladened down with food cartons. 

“Hey, where’s Spike and Lorne? They better show up before Fred eats their hoagies,” Gunn teased. 

“I will not!” Fred retorted then confessed, “I already had two – unless they really aren’t here?” 

“Lorne’s still out. Where is Spike anyway? I left him down here when I went to take a shower,” Angel asked confused. 

Gunn shrugged and bit into his sandwich. “His loss.” 

Angel turned to Wesley. “Where did you say he went?” 

“I don’t know. He didn’t say exactly. I think he went on patrol or something.” Wesley started to collect a stack of books. “You know, I’ve got some more reference materials for your demon at home. I’ll just call it a night, go home and scan through them.” 

Angel noted Wesley’s odd behavior, but let it pass for the moment. “Okay, but call me if you find anything.” 

“I’ll see everyone tomorrow then,” Wesley said and scurried out of the hotel before anyone can question him more. 

“I’m going to go see if I can track down Spike. He probably got restless and needed to get out and hunt something. Can you guys stay here and hold down the fort?” Angel asked. 

Angel was headed towards the coat rack in the lobby to grab his jacket when the front doors opened and Holtz strode in. Suddenly, several others from the vampire hunter’s crew materialized from different places around the lobby. Two of them even came halfway down either side of the staircase. The three AI members looked around, visually marking Holtz’s entire posse. 

Angel finally glared at Holtz. “Why don’t you come right on in?” 

“How has life been treating you?” Holtz asked gruffly. 

“Just fine,” Angel said as his eyes darted around measuring Holtz’s members as they closed in, raising their weapons, all them trained on him. 

“So, where’s your friend? The one with bleach blonde hair,” Holtz asked in feigned interest. 

“He’s gone out. I’m sure he’ll be all broken up when he finds out he missed your visit,” Angel replied sarcastically. 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere. It looks like you made a nice life for yourself here: cozy little enterprise, nice group of friends, found someone you care about,” Holtz said. 

“Are you here to fight or shall I make some tea?” Angel said casually. 

Addressing his men, Holtz ordered, “I want to keep Angelus alive – but not well.” 

At his command, Holtz’s men attacked, Angel and Gunn fought back. Angel tossed one opponent into the weapons cabinet, breaking the glass doors. Then, Angel systematically worked his way through a throng of Holtz’s men. Making his way to the cabinet, he tossed a sharpened baseball bat to Gunn and picked up the broadsword Spike had gotten him for Christmas. It had quickly become his favorite weapon. He used the sword to fend off his enemy’s attack. Neither he nor Gunn were out to kill, just disable them. 

When one of them raised a wooden staff to stake Angel after the vampire was knocked to the floor, Fred shot him in the back with a crossbow bolt. When she picked up another bolt to reload, one of the other members tackled her to the floor. 

Gunn was beaten back into the manager’s office by two of Holtz’s men. They pinned him back against the desk. Gunn used one of Wesley’s many books to beat one of them over the head and raised his leg to kick the other in the face knocking the man back where he hit his head on the doorjamb and knocked himself out. 

Holtz quietly turned away and walked out the front door as Angel sent his last opponent flying over the reception desk. He glanced over to where Holtz stood only to find the space empty and the door swinging shut. Walking over to one of the fallen men, he pulled the body off Fred and helped her up. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. 

“I don’t think so,” she replied uncertainly. 

“Call Wes,” Angel told her. 

Fred staggered towards the phone as Angel caught sight of Gunn stumbling out of the office, all bruised and battered. 

“They got you good. You might want to sit down and put some ice on that,” Angel cringed at the sight of Gunn’s injuries. 

“Wesley isn’t picking up,” Fred said as she listened to the ringing. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment Building_**

Wesley got out of his car and walked towards the building carrying his books. It had the number 2337 beside the door. He pushed a button the keychain, locking the car doors behind him. As he placed the keycard next to the panel to open the door to his building, he heard a moaning sound and turned to see someone with their arms wrapped around their stomach, stumbling towards him through the park across the street. Holding his books in one arm, he pulled a gun out from under his jacket with the other and aimed it at the person until they came closer, revealing it to be Justine. 

“That’s close enough,” Wesley warned. 

Justine fell to her knees on his sidewalk and looked up through a disarray of hair and tears. “He’s everything you said. It’s true.” 

“Justine?” Wesley inquired as he lowered the weapon and stepped closer. “What happened?” 

“He didn’t keep his word,” she replied. She let out a pained laugh. 

Wesley put the safety back on and holstered his weapon. Justine, arms still wrapped tightly around her stomach, staggered to her feet and moved closer. 

“He took everybody and he went after that friend of the vampire’s. When I questioned him . . .” her face was bruised and bloodied. “Bastard! I’ll kill him for this. You have to get out of here.” 

Wesley caught her when she stumbled against him. “You have to get to a hospital.” 

“No, I just have to do . . .” she whispered just before she pulled out a knife and sliced it across the side of Wesley’s neck. Wesley dropped his books and fell to his knees, pressing one hand over the cut. He watched as Justine took his keys and drove off in his car. Blood seeped through his fingers as he collapsed on the ground. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“He’s not answering his home, pager or cell phone,” Fred said as she hung up. 

“Where is he?” Angel wondered aloud. 

One of Holtz’s men inched along the floor with a hand pressed to his side. 

“Shouldn’t we be getting these guys to a hospital or morgue?” Gunn asked. 

“No,” Angel said harshly. “Holtz knew Spike wasn’t here when he walked through that door. He was stalling.” 

“Buying Wesley some time to get away,” Fred added. 

“Holtz is the key. I want Holtz. If I find Wesley with him . . .” 

“Angel, we don’t know the whole story here. I don’t think you should get too pumped . . .” Gunn said. 

“I’m not interested in what you think, Gunn!” Angel barked. “Holtz is out there. Spike is out there somewhere, unaware of what’s going on.” 

“I know this is life and death. I’m just saying, let’s get . . .” Gunn started to say. 

Angel grabbed Gunn’s shirt collar with both hands and pushed him back. “Angelus killed Holtz’s family and he’s looking for a way to make me pay for that.” 

“You better get your damn hands off me!” Gunn yelled. 

Fred rushed up and tried to get between them. “Stop it! Stop it, both of you! This isn’t helping, damn it!” She finally succeeded in pushing the two men apart. “Back off! There is only one thing that matters right now, and that’s finding Spike and Wesley.” 

Gunn and Angel stood still, staring at each other for a moment, daring the other to make a move. Suddenly, Angel brushed past Fred and Gunn and pulled one of Holtz’s men up off the floor by the collar. 

“Where is Holtz?” Angel demanded. 

“You think I’d tell you?” the guy spat. 

Angel threw him clear across the lobby and picked up the next guy. He pushed the man up against the wall and pulled Fred’s crossbow bolt out of his side. 

Brandishing it threateningly, Angel warned, “I’m going to count to three and then I’m going to bury this in your face.” 

The guy blanched and said, “2239 Santa Elena. It’s a big Victorian in Silverlake.” 

Angel let the guy drop to the floor and walked out the door without another word, picking his broadsword up off the floor as he went. 

Watching Angel leave, Fred addressed Gunn, “We better find Wesley before he does.” 

“We should start at his place,” Gunn agreed as they hurried out the door. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in Los Angeles_**

Spike fought with a group of vampires in a cul-de-sac. They attacked him from all directions. Every time he knocked one down, two more popped up to take his place. One of the vampires pushed Spike into a trash can. Spike reached over and turned the wheel at the tap, releasing the gasses from within. The vampires shrieked in surprise and were momentarily disoriented. Spike used it to his advantage and managed to knock a couple of them to the ground, dusting them, but two more vampires grabbed him and third vampire jumped on his back. 

Spike shifted to his demon and growled his outrage. He pulled his arms close to his body, knocking together the vampires who had grabbed him. They collided and released him as they favored the lumps starting to form. Using the diversion, Spike flipped the third vampire over his shoulder and staked him when he hit the ground. The other two vampires engaged Spike in a switch-hitting fistfight. The fighting technique was familiar. Having fought with Angel in the same way, Spike easily deflected the blows to an extent. 

In the midst of fighting, Spike triggered the release of a concealed stake from the device attached to his wrist. He dusted one of the vampires and dodged the other who came at him. The vampire ended up putting himself through a plate glass window. Spike staked him. Another vampire attacked Spike from behind. He spun around and punched the vampire before throwing him into a billboard. When the vampire fell to the ground, Spike staked him. 

Spike made a cursory inspection of the alley to make sure there were no other vampires, and noticed the shadow of a duster at the mouth of alley. Shifting back to his human visage, he cautiously moved closer to the shape. Upon hearing a heartbeat, he became puzzled. 

“Do I know you, mate?” 

“We haven’t been formally introduced. But I know of you,” a gravelly voice responded as a modified sawed-off shotgun was raised and aimed straight at Spike. “You’re Angelus’s pet.” 

“I think you got that wrong. I’m no one’s bloody pet,” Spike scoffed only to hear his unknown assailant cock the weapon. 

“No. I’m pretty sure I have it right, William the Bloody,” the voice said menacingly. 

“I see you’ve researched me. Well, if you’ve come looking for an autograph or something, I’m afraid I don’t have a pen on me,” Spike said as he made a reach for his pocket. 

The person watched him warily as he retrieved his cigarette and lighter. “I have waited two hundred years to repay Angelus for the grief he has caused me. Even went so far as to make a deal with a time-traveling demon to see it happen. Only thing is, when I finally get here, I discover that the demon that killed my wife and children has been cursed with a soul and his demon bitch is dead. Not only that, but he’s created other soulless spawn like himself.” 

“I’m nothing like Angel,” Spike denied. He didn’t understand why everyone continually compared him to his Sire. His Sire didn’t have the deaths of two slayers under his belt. 

“You are a vampire, correct?” the gruff voice asked. 

“Well, yeah,” Spike agreed. On that, he agreed that he was like Angel, but the other maladies that plagued Angel’s life? He wasn’t taking credit for falling hopelessly in love with a slayer, and he wasn’t cursed with a soul that forced him to pay penance for his past evil deeds. 

“That’s all I need to know. You are important to Angelus,” the man said as he stepped into the light, revealing himself. 

When it finally dawned on him whom his antagonist was, Spike inquired, “Holtz?” 

He didn’t know the man personally, but he saw him in the alleyway behind Caritas and Angel filled him in on the vampire hunter who had chased Angelus and Darla across Europe and France. He glanced at the weapon that was aimed at him. It looked like a shotgun from all outward appearances. 

“Maybe if I kill you, Angelus will finally know the grief that has been a part of my existence,” Holtz said. 

Apparently, Holtz hadn’t done any deep research on the Aurelian clan and his relationship with Angelus in particular. Otherwise he would have discovered that the current status of their relationship was a fairly new development. 

“Well, if you do that, you better make sure that soddin’ thing has some wooden bullets in it,” Spike snarked. 

“Oh, I am well aware that iron won’t kill a vampire. I’ve killed enough through the years I hunted Angelus and his demon bitch. Whenever I caught one without the other, they would always turn on each other. Will it be the same for you?” 

“Sorry to break it to you mate, I may be dead but I’m not as coldhearted as my whore of a Grandsire,” Spike replied. 

“Have you gained a soul as well, William the Bloody?” 

_A soul, indeed._ Spike scoffed. “What the soddin’ hell would I want a soul for?” 

“Very well then,” Holtz said as he aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger. 

Spike tried to leap out of the way, but the stake grazed his arm. _Stake?_ Spike rolled over on his back and looked up at Holtz standing several feet away holding what appeared to be a shotgun, but it was rigged to fire stakes instead of bullets. As Spike took a moment to study the new weapon, Holtz loaded another stake in the chamber and cocked the weapon. The mechanism acted just like a shotgun minus the bullets. 

**************************

**_Somewhere in LA between the Hyperion and Spike’s Location_**

Angel had hijacked one of the vehicles of Lilah’s commandos and drove off after the cavalcade. Scenting Spike through the open window, Angel broke from the convoy that had been following Holtz’s supposed path and went after his mate. His boy’s scent stopped at a block of derelict buildings. Angel hit the brake so hard, the vehicle bounced on its suspension. He got out with his broadsword and a stake in hand and carefully made his way down the block until he came to a cul-de-sac between the buildings. 

When Angel came out of the building, the scene in front of him made him stop dead in his tracks. Holtz stood a few feet away from a fallen Spike with a weapon raised. Holtz reloaded, cocked the weapon and aimed it at Spike. 

“My aim is usually not so far off its mark,” Holtz mused aloud. He watched as the blonde vampire got to his feet. 

Spike touched his wounded arm and came away with blood on his fingers. “What the bloody hell did you shoot me with?” 

Holtz held up the weapon for display. “Do you like it? The twenty-first century has such wonderful technology. Who knew they would come up with something like a shotgun? The centuries have come a long way since the era of early mechanized crossbows. Of course, it still wouldn’t have killed a vampire, so I had to modify it to do so. In two hundred years, you’d think they’d find a better way to dust a vampire than wooden stakes, but alas . . .” 

“SPIKE!” Angel yelled in warning, but it was too late. Spike turned at the sound of his voice just as Holtz pulled the trigger. One moment, Spike stood there looking at him with the most vivid blue eyes, and the next, he fell to the ground with a wooden stake in his body. 

All the color drained out of Angel’s face as he stood there in a state of shock, staring in disbelief at Spike’s body on the ground and glanced up at Holtz standing a few feet away with his weapon aimed at Angel. Behind Holtz, the air shifted and Sahjahn materialized. 

“I could kill you right now, Angelus. But, I’d much rather see you suffer as I have suffered for the past two centuries. There is no greater agony than seeing your loved ones all dead. There is nothing worse than watching your child turn to dust right before your eyes.” 

“Finish him!” Sahjhan yelled behind Holtz. 

The vampire hunter ignored the demon. “I told you, you would pay for what you had done to me. I aimed it at strategic point of the body. It’s only a matter of time before he turns to dust. One inch the wrong way and it could very well be his last,” Holtz warned. 

Angel’s eyes widened in horror at what Holtz had done. He chanced a quick glance at Spike’s prone body and then back at Holtz. He and Spike didn’t exactly have the easiest of relationships. They fought more than anyone Angel ever encountered in his long life. But he chose to be mated to Spike. The blonde vampire was the only one who truly knew him, the only one that understood him, even when Angel was the one who was souled. And now, in this alley, at this time, he could lose the one connection to his past, present and future. 

Angeland Holtz locked eyes for one long, silent moment. Then, Holtz nodded as if in agreement to some unspoken exchange, turned and walked away. 

“You were supposed to kill him! That was our deal!” Sahjhan yelled at Holtz’s retreating back. When he got no response, he dissolved and disappeared. 

Alone in the alley at last, Angel rushed over and fell to his knees at Spike’s side. He was almost afraid to touch him for fear that that one small movement would jar Spike’s body and the blonde would turn to dust right in front of him. 

“Spike, oh God,” Angel whispered in a choked voice. “Oh God, baby boy. I’m sorry. I tried to keep you safe. I never wanted Holtz to find out about you or our connection. I never wanted this.” 

“Angel . . .” Spike breathed. His Sire’s rambling was giving him a headache on top of the pain in his chest. His elder was such a glutton when it came to blaming himself for circumstances beyond his control. Sure, Holtz was after Angel and would use any means to get to him, but Spike didn’t blame Angel for that. This moment would have happened sooner or later. And if it hadn’t been him, Spike was sure it would have been one of Angel’s pet humans. If he thought it was bad now, it would be nothing to the guilt his Sire would feel if it had been someone like Fred or Cordy that had paid the price. 

“I’m here, Spike. I got here too late. I couldn’t stop Holtz.” 

Ignoring his Sire’s distress, Spike slowly opened his eyes and looked up at his salvation. Angelus brought him into this world. He was shot because of his Sire’s past deeds. That whole ‘sins of the father’ bit was actually real. 

“Angel . . . get this thing out of me,” Spike growled with all the annoyance he could summon. 

Angel shook his head in denial even as he tentatively reached for the stake. Unnoticed tears trickled down his cheek as his fingers wrapped around the stake. He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to watch his childe/mate/lover turn to dust when he pulled it out. Taking a few unneeded breaths for courage, Angel tightened his grip and yanked the stake out of Spike’s body. It took a moment to realize that Spike was screaming from the pain of the removal and hadn’t died on him. Angel opened one eye and peeked to ensure Spike was still there and then tossed the offensive stick away. 

“Spike, come on. Get up! Spike!” Angel called out, shaking him. It looked as if the younger vampire had passed out from the pain. 

“SPIKE!”


	26. Chapter 49-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

 

##  _Chapter 49-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 16)_

**_Los Angeles, Night_**

Angel tried everything to stem the flow of blood from the gaping hole in Spike’s chest. It had already been eight minutes and seventeen seconds since Angel had pulled the stake from Spike’s body. Eight minutes and eighteen seconds and yet Spike still hadn’t opened his eyes. 

Eight minutes and nineteen seconds . . . 

Twenty seconds . . . 

Twenty-one seconds . . . 

Twenty-two seconds . . . 

Angel’s existence had been drastically reduced to counting the seconds since Spike was shot in the chest by Holtz. Any one of those seconds his boy could open his eyes. From the moment he had woken as a fledgling vampire his boy had been so full of life. Spike had broken every myth about vampires. He was not a dark, lonely, soulless creature. Spike was an abundance of energy and a vital part of the Scourge of Europe. Angel had done everything he could to protect Spike from his enemies, from Buffy, even from himself. 

Angel laid his forehead on Spike’s chest, gently touching the area around the wound as unnoticed tears slid down his face. His relationships with Buffy and Darla seemed a lifetime ago as Spike had become his whole world in the last few years. Spike kept him grounded. Spike had worshiped him as a fledgling and annoyed him as a mature vampire. He couldn’t imagine a world without Spike. 

As that last thought crossed his mind, Angel sat up, threw his head back and let out a mournful wail that sounded more like the howl of a wolf that carried on for miles. 

Slowly, Angel dragged himself to his feet, gently picked Spike up off the ground and carried him to the stolen SUV. He carefully placed Spike in the backseat, climbed in and sped back to the hotel, looking back on Spike whenever he could afford to look away from the windshield. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_**

Gunn and Fred walked away from Wesley’s building, heading to Gunn’s truck. 

“We got to find his diaries,” Fred said anxiously. 

“We got to find _him_ ,” Gunn amended. 

Fred opened her cell phone and punched in Wesley’s number again. 

Gunn thought it was futile to keep calling. “I think if he was answering his cell phone, he would’ve the first forty times you called.” 

Fred gave him an incredulous look. “Are you telling me to quit trying?” When he looked hurt, she whispered, “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he assured her as they got into the truck. “And keep trying.” 

Fred tried to call Wesley again as Gunn drove away from Wesley’s apartment. Several feet away in the park a cell phone lay on the ground. The LCD screen displayed the caller ID as ‘Fred’. A hand stretched through the weeds towards the ringing phone. Wesley lay where Justine left him with his throat slit, barely conscious. Hope went out of his eyes when the ringing stopped. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

“This is making less and less sense,” Gunn said as he paced the lobby. “You expect us to believe that Wesley,” he gestured towards the office, “ _That Wesley_ just told Holtz where to find Spike and kill him?” 

“They’ve been meeting secretly. I got that much from my contacts,” Lorne insisted. It had taken him a while to come back to the hotel after taking Kim home. He had run into someone that had frequented Caritas and they told him about Wesley and Holtz. 

“Then they got it wrong. They fed you a line,” Gunn said. 

“He wasn’t meeting Holtz for picnics, Gunn. He was betraying Angel’s one weakness to his mortal enemy. The one thing that would break Angel was to have his enemies know how much Spike means to him. I’m not even sure Spike knows. Angel’s always kept his feelings for Spike close to the vest.” 

“God,” Fred breathed. “Why would he do that?” 

Before Lorne could reply, the front doors of the hotel burst open, startling the trio, as Angel came through carrying an unconscious Spike. 

“I don’t care why,” Angel stated. He was oddly calm as he held his burden close to his chest. “All I care about right now is Spike. Then, I’ll deal with those responsible. They’ll all pay – including Wesley.” 

Lorne, Fred and Gunn looked at each other. Things could only get worse as far as they were concerned. 

When Angel’s words finally sank in, Fred gasped, “Spike!” When she rushed up to see the vampire’s condition for herself Angel clutched his mate tighter and turned away in a defensive maneuver. 

“Don’t Fred,” Angel said anxiously. He sidestepped her and headed for the stairs. “I have to make him better.” As he climbed the stairs, he yelled over his shoulder, “Find out everything you can on Holtz and a time-traveling demon named Sahjhan.” 

Angel carried Spike to their room. Removing his coat and shoes, he laid Spike back on the bed. He proceeded to rip the torn shirt open to get a better look at the wound. Vampire abilities had started to heal it somewhat, but Spike needed human blood and maybe some stitches. It was a miracle that he hadn’t dusted. That was the only thing keeping Angel relatively sane. 

Rather than risk leaving Spike alone, Angel pulled out his cell phone and dialed Gunn’s number. After a couple of rings there was an answer. 

“Gunn, I need you to go to the blood bank and get as much human blood as you can,” Angel said. 

“Is he that bad off?” Gunn asked. 

“Yeah, it’s not looking good right now. His regenerative abilities aren’t curing the wound as fast as they should be. Whatever he was shot with has deliberately slowed the healing process,” Angel explained. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a bit,” Gunn said and hung up. 

Angel closed his phone and set it aside. He leaned forward and gently caressed Spike’s face, tracing the angles of his boy’s features. This cataleptic version of his childe was foreign to him. He’d never known Spike to be still for so long. He wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed beside Spike and hold him. But there were tasks he had to do first, things to hunt down, people to kill. He would make them all suffer as he was suffering. Holtz thought he’d found retribution for what had happened to his family by doing this to Spike. As he caressed his boy’s face, he made a mental note of everyone that even remotely had a hand in his mate’s current condition. Wesley, Lilah, Holtz, Linwood, Sahjhan, every one of them would pay for this. Then, Holtz would really know what revenge was about. 

A half an hour later, Gunn showed up with a container of blood bags and left Angel alone to take care of Spike while he and Fred researched Sahjhan. 

Angel pulled Spike’s clothes off and settled him into bed, careful of the open wound. He popped a couple of blood bags in the microwave, keeping an eye on Spike from the kitchenette while he waited for the ding. Taking the heated packs over to the bed, he shifted to his demon and ripped a hole in the bag before pressing it to Spike’s mouth. Angel wedged the open end between Spike’s lips and used his other hand to massage Spike’s throat to make him swallow. 

“That’s it, baby boy. Drink for me,” Angel encouraged when he felt Spike try to swallow on his own. “I’m so sorry, William. I should have been there with you. I shouldn’t have taken so much blood from you the other day. I’m supposed to be a champion for the Powers That Be and I couldn’t even protect you from Holtz. And Wesley . . . Wesley will pay for his part in this.” 

Angel squeezed the last of the blood out of the first bag, and then opened the second bag to repeat the process. He’d have to ask Lorne to come up and watch over Spike while he hunted down the people responsible. To hell with being a champion, Spike was his priority right now. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

Fred sat at the computer while Gunn leafed through the file folders and Lorne flipped through a stack of books. 

“I’m not finding anything on the name ‘Sahjhan’. Are you sure that’s what Angel said?” Fred asked. 

“That’s what he said: Sahjhan,” Gunn said. “Maybe you’re not spelling it right.” 

“I’ve tried every permutation – in English anyway. Could be it’s a nickname. Which would probably be cross-referenced in **_Phisto’s Dictionary of Demons and Dimensional Spirits_** –” Fred started rambling to herself. 

“Okay –” Gunn said. 

“But it’s in Ga-shundi, and I don’t read Ga-shundi,” Fred cut in. 

“That should go well with my job then. These files are in English, but Cordelia’s filing system isn’t,” Gunn commented. 

“I know she was keeping some kind of list of time/space-shifting entities,” Lorne spoke up. 

“Okay, so is that under ‘time’, ‘space’, ‘shifting’, or ‘entities’?” Gunn asked sardonically. 

“Just check them all,” Fred suggested. “It’s Monday. I wonder what time it is in Mexico.” She reached for the phone when suddenly Angel was there. He snatched the receiver from her. 

He had come downstairs to check on their progress only to find Fred with the phone in her hand. 

“What are you doing?” Angel asked in an accusatory tone. 

“Calling Cordelia?” Fred replied, startled to see the vampire standing there. 

“Why?” Angel hissed. 

“What do you mean ‘why’? I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you?” Fred replied. 

Gunn tentatively stood among the strewn files, ready to jump in and defend his girl if need be. 

“We’re not going to ruin Cordelia’s holiday,” Angel said adamantly as he put the receiver back in its cradle. 

“Angel . . . don’t you think she’d want us to call?” Fred beseeched. “Shouldn’t we tell her what happened? Maybe she could help . . .” 

“No,” Angel said flatly, panic and grief over the fatal condition of his mate laced his voice. They stared at each other for the longest time. 

“Angel . . .” Fred tried to reason with him. 

“She’ll be back soon . . . and when she does she’ll . . .” Angel’s throat developed a hitch as he fought back the overwhelming emotion that threatened to escape. “Spike will be healed by the time she gets back. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Fred. 

Tears ran down Fred’s cheeks as she saw the devastation etched on Angel’s face. She nodded. A strained silence fell on the room. Wide-eyed, Angel looked over the mess of books and files. 

“I’m sorry . . .” he said quietly. 

“No,” Fred started to reassure him. He was hurting. He didn’t need to apologize to her. 

“This isn’t working,” Angel said as he backed away towards the entrance. “Look, just . . . forget all this. I got to go.” He nearly tripped over his own feet when he turned and left the hotel. His departure took Fred, Gunn and Lorne off guard. In his haste to leave, he had forgotten to ask Lorne to look after Spike for him. 

When the doors slammed shut, Lorne stood up and moved to the reception desk. 

“Did he just tell us to forget about all this?” Fred asked rhetorically. 

“Yeah, he did,” Lorne verified. 

“You don’t suppose he’s decided to skip right to the ‘dealing with those responsible’ part, do you?” Fred inquired. 

Gunn considered the possibility and then dropped the files he held. “I think we need to find Wesley.” 

“Yeah . . .” Fred agreed. 

**************************

An hour after Fred and Gunn left, Lorne looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Angel lugging in a semi-conscious Linwood Morrow over his shoulder. Abandoning his books, Lorne hurried around the reception desk. 

“Angel, what are you doing?” 

Angel ignored him. Setting Linwood in a chair, he searched around behind the desk for some rope and duct tape, using that to bind Linwood to the chair. Lorne watched in shocked silence as Angel found things around the room to use in torturing the human. 

“Angel . . . who is that?” Lorne asked as delicately as possible. 

“Linwood Murrow,” the human said groggily as he opened his eyes. “Division president of Special Projects for Wolfram & Hart, and you are?” 

Lorne watched Angel as he replied, “Deeply troubled.” 

Linwood nodded. “You and Angel have a lot in common. Abducting an employee of Wolfram & Hart . . . then again, he might be too troubled to consider the consequences.” Addressing Angel, Linwood continued, “Once the firm finds out what you’ve done --” 

“They’d kill you before they’d kill me,” Angel finished. 

Knowing the truth in that, Linwood’s threats faded. He didn’t have any leverage to hold over the vampire. 

As Angel searched for more implements, Lorne sidled up to him and whispered, “Angel, this isn’t some slime-demon you’ve got trussed up here – he’s a human,” he glanced at the man in question, “Marginally, but still . . . this isn’t going to make Spike better.” 

Angel pulled a serrated steak knife out of a drawer and replied darkly, “No, but it’ll make me feel better.” 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Lorne asked anxiously. 

“At last count the charges were kidnapping, assault and battery, attempted murder –” Linwood started to say. 

He was interrupted when Angel slammed an end table down in front of him. He lined it with several knives and razors. Linwood turned pale as he looked over the accouterments with fear in his eyes for the first time. 

“None of which I intend to press,” Linwood said, changing his tune at the idea of what Angel had in store for him. “In fact, let’s not _press_ anything, shall we? You want to find this Sahjhan character? I can guarantee you the full force and faith of Wolfram  & Hart will be at your disposal.” 

Seeming to ignore him, Angel picked up the message spike and held it threateningly close to Linwood’s right eye. 

“How do I get my hands on Sahjhan?” Angel asked in a deadly voice reminiscent of Angelus. 

Linwood’s charming smile turned out to be a pathetic appearance of a frightened grimace. “If you’ll just hit three on my speed dial --” He gave a small nod towards his jacket, “On my cell phone.” 

Angel reached in, pulled out Linwood’s phone, punched three and held it up to the human’s ear. 

“Lilah? This is Linwood. I’m sending over a client, and I want you to listen very carefully, because I have explicit instructions on how to deal with him,” Linwood said as he glanced up at Angel then quickly looked away. “Give him anything he wants.” 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Spike lay prone on the bed in the same position Angel left him. For all outward appearances, he hadn’t moved. Inwardly, his mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t wake himself up even if he wanted to. The normal consensus after someone was shot was to have their life flash before their eyes. In his case, his life was playing in slow motion, nearly lethargic. 

When he crawled out of the grave and met Angelus for the first time he was awed by mere size of the man . . . In the beginning when Angelus took over the Sire-Claim from Drusilla and made him feel safer than he had ever been since waking up . . . . When he went on hunts with his Sire and they’d spend the night trying to outdo the other in seduction techniques to lure unsuspecting prey . . . The nights Angelus would reluctantly feed him when he couldn’t find enough to satisfy his hunger . . . . The overwhelming sense of loss when Angelus was cursed with a soul and abandoned him to a life with Darla and Drusilla, until Darla grew bored and left them alone . . . . When he took care of Drusilla all those years until she finally left him in South America . . . . Then he found the Gem of Amarra and lost it to Angel only to have his Sire send him back to Sunnydale reclaimed. 

All these memories and more filtered through his foggy mind as he lay in repose, waiting for his body to heal itself. He reached out with his senses but all that came back was a cold, dark room. He could smell the carton of blood packs sitting nearby. He knew he was in the bed he shared with Angel, but the elder vampire was not there. He was in too much pain to get a sense of his Sire’s presence in the hotel itself. All he could do until Angel saw fit to return was relax and let his body heal . . . slowly. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

The two most unlikely people to ever meet on common ground walked down a halfway of the law firm: Angel with a grim expression on his face and Lilah Morgan who looked impressed and apprehensive all at once. 

“Kidnapping Linwood, you’re really steppin’ up to it,” Lilah praised. “And the White Room . . . I mean, they don’t just talk about it.” She shuddered at the thought of it. “God, the White Room. I was here three years before I even heard of it. Did he tell you what was in it?” 

“Answers,” Angel stated as they stopped at an elevator. “Up or down?” 

“Up.” 

Angel pressed the appropriate button. When the doors dinged open they both entered. A moment later, the doors closed. 

“Did he tell you how to . . . get there?” Lilah asked, hoping to get something useful out of the impassive vampire. 

Ignoring her, Angel pulled out a piece of paper and punched a series of buttons as per the instructions. 

“There was this guy in litigation. He went to the White Room in September. He’s in an asylum now.” 

Angel finished the sequence and hit the emergency stop button. Then there was a soft whirring sound as the elevator jerked into motion. A few seconds later, a blank white button materialized above the panel. 

“Wow,” Lilah sounded impressed. Glancing at the paper in his hand, she suggested, “I should probably hold onto --” 

Angel put the paper back in his pocket and punched the white button. It lit up but nothing happened. They waited for a while and then the elevator suddenly enveloped in blinding whiteness. Seconds later, they stood in a giant white room. The unlikely duo walked further into the room. 

“Hello,” a small voice said. 

They stopped and turned around to see a ten-year-old girl wearing a party dress and Mary-janes. She sat in a child-size Windsor chair with her knees together and hands on her lap. Angel and Lilah stared at the little girl who hadn’t been there a second ago. Her demeanor of complete normality was chilling. 

“Angel. Lilah,” the little girl addressed them in turn. Noticing Lilah’s bright red nail polish, she commented, “Your fingernails are pretty. I love red.” Addressing Angel, she said, “You have a taste for red too. And revenge. I know it’s so much more fun than forgiveness. So, what’s up?” 

“A demon named Sahjhan brought an old enemy back and they’ve nearly killed a friend of mine. He’s barely hanging on.” 

“Ahh, do you want him back? He’s more than just a friend isn’t he? He’s much closer to you than a mere friend,” the little girl stated. 

Lilah’s expression turned to one of surprise. She shook herself just in time to stop Angel from advancing on the little girl. “Oh God, don’t!” 

“Your _friend_ is dying. What you want is Sahjhan. You think he can restore him. Sahjhan’s a Granok. Nowadays you can walk right through ’em, but in the past they were something else . . . . They were all about torture and death. You can relate I’m sure. Well, they caused a lot of trouble. Don’t get me wrong, I like trouble – but I hate chaos. So we changed ’em.” 

“You made them immaterial,” Angel said. 

“Smart boy,” the little girl sneered. “Now they watch and they can no longer touch.” 

“How do you capture them?” Angel asked. 

“Well, there’s your special urn . . .” the little girl replied. “But you don’t want his essence in a jar. You want someone you can sink your teeth into.” Angel glared at her. She turned to Lilah. 

“That’s a yes,” Lilah interpreted Angel’s answer. 

“You know these things always come with a price,” the little girl hedged. Addressing Angel, she ordered, “Kill her.” 

Lilah’s blood suddenly ran cold and her breath caught in her chest. Angel grabbed her head and was about to twist her neck when the little girl laughed merrily. 

“That’s good for now. I can see why they respect you,” the little girl said as Angel released Lilah. “Now, for your demon made flesh. It’s a big ritual, and it’s all here.” She held out her hand revealing a folded piece of paper. As Angel reached for it, it suddenly appeared in his hand. “Can’t wait to see how it turns out.” 

Angel and Lilah were engulfed in blinding whiteness. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

Angel stood up from his task, his hair in disarray and a few black paint smudges on his cheeks. His intense gaze was focused on the floor. Lorne came down the stairs from looking in on Spike and took in the new decoration on the lobby floor. Then he looked at Angel. 

“Angel, please – do not do this thing. We’ll find some other way,” Lorne beseeched. 

“There is no other way,” Lilah said from her position of leaning against the reception desk with the spell instructions in her hand. 

Glaring at her, Lorne replied sarcastically, “I think _not_ speaking would be a really good look for you.” 

Ignoring Lorne, Angel asked Lilah, “How’s that?” 

Examining the symbol on the floor and comparing it to the drawing on the paper, Lilah said, “Looks about right.” 

Angel stepped back and looked at the large, sloppily-painted pentagram on the lobby floor. Linwood, still tied to the chair, was near the stairs. 

“What’s next?” Angel asked. 

“What’s next is we stop and reconsider this,” Lorne insisted. “Angel, you’re messing with primordial powers of darkness here.” 

“Next?” Angel prompted Lilah. 

Before she could respond, Lorne stepped in front of Angel and forced the vampire to look at him. “Is this how you want to bring Spike back? He’s lying up there in that bedroom and he needs his Sire, his mate.” 

Angel glared at Lorne. “I promised him I would do this. Now, step aside.” Addressing Lilah, he bit out, “What’s. Next.” 

Looking up from the instructions, she said, “Human blood.” 

Angel looked at her. She got the message. There were only two humans in the room. One or both were going to have to draw blood. She picked up a large ceremonial knife from the items on the reception desk then turned to Linwood. She considered making him bleed, but he was still her boss. Instead, she gave him a half-smile and maintained eye contact as she held up her left hand and cut her palm. 

Seeing that Angel had drowned out common sense long before now, Lorne gave up trying to talk to his friend and backed away into a corner and braced himself for what was to come. 

Lilah moved to the center of the pentagram and squeezed her fist over the design, dripping blood onto the pentagram and then stepped aside. 

“Corpus Granok Sahjhan Demonicus,” Angel intoned, facing the pentagram. 

Lightning flashed. Beams of light shot out from the candles set at various points of the pentagram and the lobby and converged in the center of the pentagram. A form took shape in a translucent sphere of light. It grew to a couple of feet in diameter. 

Angel stepped back and reached for a battle-axe he had set aside, preparing himself for the thing that would appear before him. They all squinted from the bright light. Suddenly it burst like a bubble, releasing a shockwave of wind and light that nearly knocked everyone over. Then, there was silence. 

Angel looked at the center of the pentagram, but there was no Sahjhan. 

“Where is he?” Angel glared at Linwood, demanding, “Where _is_ he?” 

**************************

**_Culver City, Main Street_**

A few cars drove down the street in the light industrial neighborhood. Suddenly, a spherical burst of light flashed and Sahjhan materialized in the middle of the street. He was shocked to find himself yanked from wherever he was and transported to the city street. 

Sahjhan looked around. “What the . . .?” 

He tried to gain his bearings but turned when he heard a car horn just as a two-ton truck ran him over, swerved and hit the side of a station wagon that was heading in the other direction. 

Horrified at what happened, the truck driver sat in shock with his hands deadlocked on the wheel. Through his cracked windshield he saw a family in the station wagon. After a moment, his truck started to shake. It tipped and flipped over on its side. Sahjhan stood up between the truck and station wagon. His only causality was a small cut on his forehead. 

“Now this is more like it,” Sahjhan said to himself. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

The chair made a ka-thump sound as Angel dragged it up the stairs with Linwood still tied to it. There was no emotion on Angel’s face. He was well past anger and into coldhearted vengeance. He had nothing left. Lorne stood at the foot of the stairs agonizing. 

“Lilah! Do something,” Linwood begged. 

Calmly she took out her cell phone and dialed a number. 

“Angel, killing this creep isn’t going to solve anything,” Lorne tried once more to reason with the vampire. “Please, trust me: you don’t want to do this.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Angel said finally acknowledging him. “Spike wouldn’t be coming back from the brink of death if it wasn’t for this piece of shit and Holtz and that time-traveling demon.” He started up the stairs again, dragging the chair and Linwood with him. 

“We had a deal, Angel. I gave you everything you asked – what more do you want from me?” Linwood asked plaintively. 

“I want a lot of things. I want you to stay out of my life. I want Spike back to the way he was. I want --” 

“Hey! Whoa! Flag on the play!” Lilah said from the bottom of the stairs. Angel looked over his shoulder at her. “The firm’s TAC team just registered a severe bio-plasmic disturbance on Taber and National, same time as the spell.” 

“Sahjhan?” Angel inquired. 

“Whatever it was flipped a two-ton truck like a Tonka toy,” Lilah replied. 

Angel suddenly released his grip on the chair and Linwood toppled down the stairs with it. Lilah rushed to help her boss as Angel strode past them and headed for the door. Just then, Gunn and Fred rushed into the hotel. For a moment, they were taken aback by the chaos and the giant pentagram decorating the lobby floor. As Angel moved to pass them, Fred stepped in his way. 

“We need to talk,” Fred said. 

“Not now,” Angel said dismissively. He moved to sidestep her, but she moved with him. “Fred --” he warned. 

“There’s something you need to know before you --” Fred started to say. 

Angel sidestepped her again, quicker this time and headed for the door. He made it by a few feet. 

“The champion will fall from grace!” Fred blurted. 

Angel stopped with his back to them. He turned, waiting for Fred to go on. She and Gunn both moved toward him. 

“There was a prophecy in the Nyazian scrolls. Wesley checked the translations, the commentaries, he even went to mystic oracles, but he couldn’t disprove it. He thought that Spike would replace you, by force. The champion will fall from grace. Everything was telling him that Spike would kill you. He and Spike haven’t exactly been on the best of terms since the whole thing with Billy’s blood. So, he took the prophecy to heart and ran with it. And with the sidebar of Holtz and Sahjhan, he felt he couldn’t take any chances. Wesley was trying to protect you,” Fred explained. 

“Same as we’re doing right now,” Gunn said. 

Angel turned to leave again but Fred rushed to block his exit. “Angel, the prophecy --” 

“It’s a lie. Spike and I are fine. He wouldn’t do that,” Angel denied. “Now move.” 

The look he gave her said that he’d physically move her if she didn’t do it herself. Chagrined, but realizing she couldn’t stop him, she stepped aside as he walked out. 

“We have to go after him,” Fred said as she watched the door swing shut. 

“We can’t,” Gunn said. “If he lays a finger on you, I’ll have to kill him myself.” 

Fred and Gunn turned at the sound of painful groaning and saw Linwood – now freed from his bonds – and Lilah. 

“What are they doing here?” Gunn asked. 

“Wolfram  & Hart,” Lorned replied as if that answered everything, then elaborated, “There was a kidnapping and a spell, dark magick.” 

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” Lilah said as she tried to help Linwood up. 

“Don’t touch me!” Humiliated, he shook off her assistance. “He’s going to pay for this.” 

“It was really bad,” Lorne added.


	27. Chapter 49-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

 

##  _Chapter 49-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 16)_

**_Outside the Hyperion_**

Angel strode down the front walk, lost in thought, confused and angry. Just as he rounded the corner to the street, a stake pierced his left shoulder. He looked up to see Justine with a crossbow as she fired another stake. Angel rolled out of the way as it whizzed by. 

With a growl of pain, he yanked the stake out of his shoulder just as four of Holtz’s men converged on him at once. He dodged and parried, landing devastating blows of his own, knocking them to the ground in a matter of seconds. He turned to leave, but Justine punched him in the face. 

“Don’t run off now. The fun’s just startin’,” Justine taunted. 

Angel didn’t have time for this. He had to find Sahjahn and avenge what happened to Spike. As Justine lunged with a stake, Angel deftly disarmed her and slammed her hard against a wall. He held the bloody point of the stake he had pulled from his shoulder to her throat. Suddenly, all the spiteful remarks were replaced with the sweet smell of fear. 

“I’m not your boyfriend,” he said menacingly. “Find somebody else to smack you around.” He grabbed her by her jacket and tossed her aside. She fell on her side, her head cracking on the sidewalk. She lifted her hands over her head, sure there was going to be another attack but when she dared to look up all she saw was Angel’s departing back. She scrambled to her feet and ran. 

Just then Fred and Gunn came out of the hotel. Gunn tugged on Fred’s arm. 

“It does matter. It has to matter,” she was saying. 

“Fred, he’s not thinkin’ about --” Gunn started to explain when he saw the unconscious men on the ground. “What the hell?” 

Fred saw Justine running for a car and yanking the door open. “Justine. She’s leaving her people --” 

“—In Wesley’s car,” Gunn finished. A look passed between them and they ran for their own vehicle to follow her and investigate. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Sahjahn’s Underground Chamber_**

Justine stood alone in the chamber. She circled the table, seeming lost. She sat down in a chair and stared into space. The metallic grind of the iron door sliding open caused her to turn around and see Gunn and Fred enter the room behind her. 

“Where’s Wes?” Gunn demanded. 

“He’s not coming back,” Justine said, lost in her own world. 

“What?” Gunn asked confused. 

“It was all lies. Every bit of it,” Justine said. “All he wanted was to punish Angel. He never cared about anything else.” 

“I’m talking about Wesley,” Gunn clarified. “His car’s parked up top here; you obviously took it from him. Where is he?” 

Justine looked away. Gunn stepped closer and Fred followed. “We just want to hear his side.” 

“His side?” Justine sounded bemused. “His side’s kind of funny: he sacrificed everything he believed in to save that demon.” 

“By helping Holtz and betraying Angel?” Gunn inquired sardonically. “I’d like to hear it from the horse’s mouth.” 

“Your friend’s innocent,” Justine said simply. 

“Is he alive?” Fred asked anxiously. “Where is he? Will you please just tell us?” 

“Heaven . . . Hell . . .” Justine replied disinterestedly, “I slit his throat.” 

Fred suddenly slapped her hard across the face. Justine instinctively swung back at Fred. Gunn caught the punch and threw her tumbling over the chair. Justine rolled and attacked Gunn. She swung a fist and connected. When she punched him again, Gunn slammed her to the ground. 

“Stay down!” he ordered. 

She seemed to think it over. “Um, no.” 

Justine lunged at Gunn. He countered with a punch. She hit back. He returned the punch hard in the face and she crumpled to the ground. Fred moved to stand next to him and stared down at Justine. Justine pulled the hair out of her face and glared up at them. She was now sporting a bloody nose as well as a busted lip. 

“I trusted the wrong man,” Justine muttered. 

Gunn stepped closer, grabbed Justine by her jacket and jerked her to her feet. “You’re taking us to him. And he better be alive.” 

“You call that a fight?” 

Fred, Gunn and Justine looked toward the gate and saw Sahjhan blocking the exit. 

“Let me show you how we used to do it.” He stepped into the room, commenting, “So, my home, uninvited guests, this can’t end well.” 

“This is the guy, right?” Gunn inquired. Fred nodded. 

Recognizing Justine, Sahjhan said, “Hi, honey. I remember you. You’re one of Holtz’s groupies. You tried to cut off my head.” With that he backhanded Justine hard, sending her flying into a wall by the entrance where she crumpled to the floor. Sahjhan then turned to Gunn and Fred. “Can’t tell you how much I missed doing that.” 

As Sahjhan stalked towards them, Fred fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone. Across the chamber, Justine slowly came back to consciousness. Gunn and Fred backed up around the table as she tried to dial the phone. 

“I also missed gravity, friction and smashing things to pieces,” Sahjhan said casually. He grabbed a chair, shattered it against the table and held the leg of it threateningly. Fred fumbled with the phone and accidentally dropped it. She didn’t have time to pick it up for fear that Sahjhan would attack. “Let’s start with your skulls.” 

Angel stepped into the chamber behind the demon. “Or yours.” 

Sahjhan turned and saw Angel stride closer, past Justine who was still on the floor. Seeing her chance, she rushed out of the room. 

“Angel,” Sahjhan said in false pleasantry. “I’m guessing I have you to thank for the whole mortal coil thing.” 

“Yeah. Tell you what, you tell me what you gave to Holtz that poisoned Spike and deliberately slowed his regenerative abilities and how to fix it – we’ll call it even.” 

“Don’t think so, buddy. Holtz and I made a deal. Personally, I wanted you dead. But, I’ll take your childe in permanent stasis as a consolation prize.” 

“You’re going to tell me one way or the other,” Angel threatened. 

“There is no cure.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Nope. He has to find his own way out.” 

“So what are you lying about?” Fred demanded. 

“Oh, well, I don’t like to brag but . . .” Sahjhan fixed his eyes on her. “Read any good prophecies lately.” 

“You wrote the prophecies?” Gunn asked. 

“More like a rewrite,” Sahjahn clarified. 

“The champion will fall from grace,” Fred recited. 

“Yeah, I flitted back and forth in time, polished some prophecies. Flitted in a manly way, just so we’re clear,” Sahjhan replied. “You’re not really my enemy. You’re in my home and I’m going to kick you ass, but you were never really the point.” 

“Holtz?” Angel said. 

“Holtz has been after you and Darla for years. So I brought him forward two hundred years, because Wolfram  & Hart brought her back. She was supposed to give birth to your child, a human child. But then you let her die as a human. So then, I helped Holtz seek revenge on you with Spike. I just gave him something extra to make the sting hurt a little deeper.” 

“So you planted the false prophecy that Spike would somehow harm Angel and Wesley believed it,” Fred filled in. 

“I gave Holtz some holy water – well, mystically enhanced holy water. He was supposed to shoot you with it. But he shot your demon spawn instead. He’ll pull out of it eventually, in a few years. Or some really powerful blood helps him along,” Sahjhan said cryptically. 

Angel had heard enough. He growled as his facial bones shifted into that of his demon and charged Sahjhan. The demon was ready though, and countered Angel, swinging the chair leg at him. He caught Angel across the neck with the blow. Gunn rushed at Sahjhan with a swing that connected. It bought Angel a moment to recover. Sahjhan grabbed Gunn by the throat and threw him across the table. 

Angel and Sahjhan traded blows as Fred picked up one of the braziers and hurled the hot coals in Sahjhan’s face. He howled in pain, glaring at her. He tried to punch her, but it was deflected by Angel as the dark vampire hit him hard from the side. Angel pushed Fred out of the way as he threw another punch at Sahjhan. When he tried to kick him, Sahjhan grabbed Angel’s leg and launched him across the chamber. Gunn finally got up and tried to grab the demon, but got kicked in the head and crumpled to the ground. 

Angel staggered to his feet in obvious pain. Sahjhan grabbed a stake-size piece of broken chair and stalked toward the vampire. Suddenly, Justine rushed in, carrying a Resikhian urn. Sahjhan glanced at her and then back at Angel as Fred crawled over to check on Gunn. Justine opened the urn and a stream of liquid floated out and over to Sahjhan, swirling around him. 

“No, no . . . don’t do that!” Sahjhan objected. He tried to stake Angel but the piece of wood fell from his hand as he was sucked back into the urn. Justine replaced its lid. 

Gunn and Fred helped Angel even though both men were beat to hell. Angel looked over at Justine with the urn in her hands. 

“Holtz left it,” she explained. 

“Thanks,” Angel said simply. 

Justine set the urn down. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. 

“What about Wesley?” Fred asked. 

“The park next to his place . . . that’s where I . . . left him,” Justine said softly. 

**************************

**_The Park Opposite Wesley’s Apartment_**

Angel, Gunn and Fred searched the area, calling Wesley’s name. Angel stood near the shrubs where Wesley had lain for hours. Gunn and Fred were a few feet away in either direction. 

Fred walked towards Angel. “Maybe she was lying?” 

“No, he was here,” Angel replied. 

“How can you --?” Fred started to ask when Angel looked at her. She remembered his senses were acute. “—Right, the blood.” 

Gunn came up to them with a glance towards the eastern sky. “We should get going. Sun’s coming up. 

Angel stared into the distance, wrestling with his emotions over the last few days. He didn’t know why he bothered to care whether Wesley lived or died. The former watcher certainly hadn’t cared about Spike. Wesley had been a friend and he betrayed him. Whatever Justine’s issue with him, it didn’t matter. Wesley would pay for what happened to Spike. He just had to find him first. 

“. . . He can’t be dead,” Angel said to himself more than to his companions. 

“We’ll keep looking,” Fred assured him. “Lorne’s been calling hospitals all night.” 

Gunn glanced towards the east again and saw the sky turning yellow. “We need to get you indoors, man. We’ll find him. You need to get back and take care of Spike.” 

“Nothing short of a miracle can help Spike,” Angel commented, lost in thought. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel trudged up the stairs. He entered his suite, closed the door behind him and leaned against it. His head fell back to rest against the panel. He was at a loss for what to do. Sahjhan was stuck in a jar. Justine was God-knows-where – not that it mattered – and Wesley was still missing. 

Angel looked at the closed doors to his bedroom. Spike lay comatose just beyond. His childe. His mate. He promised to protect Spike and he had failed. His boy lay motionless, slowly healing from an unknown poison. He did manage to get two bags of human blood down Spike’s throat. Past experience taught him that coming from the brink of death took Sire’s blood or Slayer’s blood. Faith was still in prison and Angel didn’t think that Buffy would be accommodating to an evil vampire. She and Spike barely tolerated each other. Besides, the vampire had to be alert enough to bite down and swallow fluids to drink from her or his Sire for that matter. 

Angel sighed as he walked into the bedroom and sat beside the bed. He was lost in thought, watching over Spike when Lorne came into the room. 

“I, uh, cleaned the Pentagram as best I could. The dried blood . . . well, it’s starting to be a look down there,” Lorne informed him. 

“Thanks,” Angel replied offhandedly. 

“You know me, like to keep busy. I’d crochet a new pillar if I could afford the yarn,” Lorne said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“It’s not right,” Angel said out loud. 

“Figure of speech,” Lorne explained. “I’m aware you can’t crochet a pillar. And I know that’s not what you meant.” 

“All I could think of was getting my hands on Sahjhan and finding a way to bring Spike back. Fred and Gunn tried to keep me from . . .” Angel trailed off as Spike mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep. 

“Going too far?” Lorne provided. 

“I nearly got them killed.” 

“Yeah you did. Glad it didn’t work out that way,” Lorne said gratefully. 

“Do you think Wes is . . .?” Angel started to ponder. 

“I don’t know. I hope for the best. Angel, there’s a bigger picture here. It wasn’t a coincidence that Wesley handed Spike over to Holtz or that Holtz made a deal with Sahjhan to bring him here. I don’t think you realize how deep Wesley’s resentment of Spike goes. Something happened between them and Wesley has been biding his time waiting for the perfect moment. Then, he found the prophecy and it all fell into place for him. He was meeting Holtz behind your back.” 

Angel looked up at Lorne. Wesley had planned this from the beginning? He’d spent all this time planning revenge on something that happened . . . how long ago? What happened? How long ago was it? Did Wesley always despise Spike – enough to do this? 

Angel’s phone rang on the bedside table. When it looked like Angel would ignore it, Lorne picked it up and answered. 

“Angel’s phone, this is Lorne speak—Hey Fred. They did? And --? Okay, where?” Lorne found a slip of paper and wrote an address on it. “He’s right here. I’ll tell him. Thanks.” 

Lorne shut the phone and handed it back to Angel. He heard the conversation. “They found Wesley.” 

“Yeah. At St. Patricia’s. He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s alive. Maybe you should pay him a visit,” Lorne suggested as he held out the slip of paper. “I’ll stay and watch over Spike until you get back.” 

Angel took the paper uncertainly and, with a kiss to Spike’s brow, walked out, leaving Lorne to sit with Spike. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, St. Patricia’s Hospital_**

Gunn and Fred stood outside Wesley’s room as Angel strode down the hall toward them. 

“It’s good you came, man,” Gunn said in greeting. 

“Still no change in Spike’s condition?” Fred asked. 

“No,” Angel glanced toward Wesley’s closed door. “Did he ask for me?” 

“No. He can’t speak yet. Trachea’s all messed up. He lost a lot of blood. It’s just good you came,” Gunn said, trying to sound optimistic. Though, by the look on Angel’s face, he could tell Angel still hadn’t started to forgive Wesley. 

“He’s not completely out of the woods yet. You being here can only help,” Fred added. 

Angel looked at the door again, unsure of whether to go in or not. “Can I see him?” 

“I’m sure he’d like that,” Fred said with a small smile. 

Gunn and Fred stayed behind as Angel stepped into Wesley’s room and closed the door. 

Wesley lay in bed as still as Spike was back at the hotel. If the monitors hadn’t displayed his active vitals, it would have been easy to believe he was dead. His ravaged neck was bandaged. There were tubes and IVs hooked into his arm. 

When Angel stepped closer to the bed, Wesley slowly opened his eyes and looked at him. There was no sign of fear in his eyes, just a calm acceptance of what was to come. 

“Hey Wes . . .” Angel said softly. He looked at the floor, gathering his thoughts, deciding the best way to say what he needed to say. “I just . . . I want you to know I understand why you did it. I know about the prophecy. What I don’t understand is why you thought Spike was a threat. He’s done nothing but help us in the last few years.” 

When Wesley just stared up at him, Angel moved closer and picked up a pillow. To an outsider it looked as if he were caring for his friend by propping a pillow behind Wesley to make him more comfortable. At the last minute, his intentions became clear when he put the pillow over Wesley’s face, smothering him. 

Outside in the waiting room, Fred leaned her head on Gunn’s shoulder. Gunn squeezed her hand reassuringly. They sat, waiting patiently, while Angel visited with Wesley. They hoped he was making peace with the former watcher over what happened to Spike. 

Suddenly, there were beeping sounds and a small group of nurses and orderlies rushed down the hall passed Gunn and Fred. They burst into Wesley’s room, a doctor followed close behind. Gunn and Fred exchanged puzzled looks and then ran after the medical staff. 

Angel pressed all his weight on the pillow, ignoring Wesley’s attempts to fight for air. 

“Angel!” Fred cried in shock. She looked over to see the monitors beeping. The pulse rate spiked. The oxygen level dropped. 

Gunn and two big male orderlies tried to pull Angel off Wesley. 

“Stop it!” Fred screamed and burst into tears. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Angel was trying to kill Wesley. It wasn’t that Wesley didn’t deserve a reprimand, but he didn’t deserve to die either. 

Angel shrugged off the men, determined to end Wesley’s existence. Gunn and the orderlies finally managed to pry him loose and dragged him away kicking and flailing. 

“You’re the reason Spike’s laying near death! You’re the one that tipped Holtz off! You nearly killed my mate!” Angel screamed. He tossed an orderly aside and launched himself at the bed again. Another orderly rushed in to help the others drag Angel towards the door. 

“I’ll never forgive you, you bastard! **Never! _I’LL KILL YOU!_** ” 

Gunn and the orderlies dragged Angel out of the room as Fred screamed and cried. Angel tried to break free of his captors, managing to toss a couple of them off and barreled towards Wesley’s room again only to have reinforcements show up in the form of security guards. 

“You better pray Spike doesn’t die from what you did or you’re a dead man! **_YOU HEAR ME, PRYCE?! DEAD! DEAD!_** ” 

Angel growled and threw two of the guards hard against the wall. When the others drew their batons on him, Angel held his hands up in surrender and stalked away. Gunn and Fred watched him leave with shock still written on their faces. They’d never seen Angel so angry before, at least not with anyone he cared about. Gunn pulled Fred into his arms and held her shaking form, torn between following Angel and staying until Wesley was stabilized. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

It had taken five hospital security guards to persuade him to leave. When he got back to the hotel, he told Lorne a truncated version of what happened at the hospital, only saying that he talked to Wesley. Then he rushed up the stairs to his suite. 

His pace slowed when he entered the bedroom. Spike laid still, the wound in his chest looked a little better than before. Somehow he had to find a way to get the younger vampire to ingest Sire’s blood. Angel slowly moved around the bed and sat next to Spike. He shifted to his demon and opened his wrist with a fang and pressed it to Spike’s mouth, silently hoping Spike would instinctively swallow the rich blood. 

“We found Wesley. He’s at the hospital. I nearly killed him . . . tried to smother him with a pillow. Gunn, the orderlies and security guards stopped me. He had no right to go after you the way he did. What did you do, Spike? What could you have done to make Wesley target you, use you to betray me?” Angel thought aloud. Spike still hadn’t woken up, but at least he was feeling tiny pulls on his wrist. Spike was swallowing. That was the most vital sign he’d seen since the younger vampire passed out on him. 

Angel closed his eyes and felt himself drift. Spike was using all his strength to focus on healing and before Angel realized it, he had slipped inside Spike’s mind. At first, all he saw was a dark red fog of pain. It made him want to curl in on himself. Pushing through that, Angel came across the last memory Spike had: _Seeing Angel hover over him with unnoticed tears as he said how sorry he was for not being there to stop Holtz._ There was stronger pulls on his wrist now. Angel hit a wall then. There was an obstacle in his way, a memory he couldn’t see. Deciding to come back to the wall later, Angel moved on through the bittersweet memories of their lovemaking. The poet Spike tried so hard to hide had romanticized their intimate moments, made them more flowery than what they actually were. A feeling of pride was like a twinge of pain in Angel’s chest. He continued to push through Cordelia’s bout with coma before she woke up half demon and the Christmas holiday they spent together until he came across the memory Spike had of Wesley. It involved Wesley’s treatment of Fred when he was under the influence of Billy’s blood: 

_“I think we both know why I’m here. A lovely little bird told me about what happened. That you were somehow infected by demon blood and went a little homicidal,” Spike said._

_Wesley looked at Spike’s feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her or frighten her.”_

_“It happens to the best of us. The demon takes over and that rush of power is intoxicating,” Spike said._

_“Yes, quite,” Wesley agreed._

_The blonde vampire stepped closer to the threshold. Wesley leaned against the doorjamb, looking anywhere but at Spike._

_“No one knows I’m in town. Well, maybe Angel can feel my presence. But, you’re not going to tell them I was even here, Wesley,” Spike stated._

_The former watcher looked up at him confused by the veiled threat. He gasped when Spike reached out and fisted his shirt, yanking him out into the hallway._

_“I may understand what the demon can do. But, you went after Fred and that I will never forgive you for. You will go back into work and you will see her every day. I hope whatever happened between you haunts you for the rest of your life, mate. Every time you see her, remember what you did to her. Because the next time it happens, I won’t think twice about draining you dry.”_

Spike had protected Fred that day. He told her to do anything she had to in order to survive. Then he showed up in L.A. and threatened Wesley without Angel being the wiser. Wesley had been harboring a grudge this whole time. Part of his actions made sense now. It didn’t absolve Wesley of any wrongdoing however, and Angel didn’t feel guilty for trying to smother him. 

“That’s what this all has been about? Wesley’s still pissed that you defended Fred?” Angel asked out loud. He looked to see that Spike’s wound was healing. Just a little more blood ought to do it. 

Angel turned his focus back to Spike’s mind and that wall. He chipped away at it until he saw something – something that floored him. He never would have believed it if anyone had told him. But there it was in Spike’s memory bank, hidden on the off chance that Angel managed to break through the barrier. There was no turning back. He couldn’t unsee it if he tried. 

_Buffy and Spike were in Spike’s four-post bed in the mansion. They were moving rhythmically with Spike on top as Buffy moaned in pleasure._

_Then the scene changed . . ._

_Buffy snapped, “Do you think Angel feels anything for you?”_

_Spike jerked around. “What are you on about?”_

_“Well, you’ve been around him a lot the last couple of years. You even managed to distract him from mourning me when I was dead. I just wondered if you thought he had any actual feeling for you. Has he said anything to you? ’Cause, we both know that I’m the one he really loved,” Buffy said snidely._

_“What goes on between me and Angel is none of your concern, Slayer. What makes you so special anyway?” Spike asked gruffly, picking his jeans up off the floor by the bed and putting them on, secretly pocketing the underwear she had discarded on the floor._

_“I gave him my virginity. We’re soulmates,” Buffy said._

_Spike looked up from fastening his pants and raised a brow. “You’re virginity?” he mumbled around the cigarette. He gave a dry laugh at that, exhaling puffs of smoke. “Do you have any idea how many girls Angel took their virginity from, even before he became a vampire?”_

_Buffy bit her lip, stifling a whine. “But I was special. He gave me a ring.”_

_“To get you into bed,” Spike laughed. “Let’s not forget: you were an innocent seventeen-year-old just begging for it. I’m sure you were quite the conquest. You were probably the first lay he’d had in a century.”_

_Angry, Buffy got up and yanked her clothes on. “I really don’t know why I do this, any of it. You’re not special . . . to either of us. You’re just convenient!”_

_“I’m convenient?” Spike scoffed. “Oh please, Slayer, he’s mated to me. Need I remind you that it was you who came looking for me? You’re the one that comes to me, crawls into my bed. Angel should have told me that the only thing better than killing a Slayer would be fucking one.”_

_“What?!” Buffy outraged. He ducked the pillow she threw at him. “Is that what this is about for you, doing a slayer?”_

_“What else would it be, luv?” He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to blow the smoke out properly. “Your charming demeanor? I wouldn’t be throwing stones or pillows, honey. You seem to be quite the groupie. Wonder what **my mate** did to tickle your fancy for fucking us? He is quite the thorough lover,” Spike smirked._

_“Shut up,” Buffy said disgusted with him and herself._

_“Just saying . . . vampires get you hot. Tell me, is it the stamina or the fact that we can stay hard for as long as you need it?”_

_“ **A** vampire got me hot. **One** , but he’s gone,” Buffy said, trying not to cry._

Angel shook his head to clear it. A plethora of emotions flitted across his face: shock, sadness, confusion . . . Spike and Buffy had slept together? Every time he mentioned one to the other, they both acted like they hated each other. So, why did they end up together? _How_ did they end up together? 

“Why did you sleep with her?” Angel asked his voice void of emotion as he removed his wrist from Spike’s mouth. The younger vampire was coming around now. Angel licked the wound in his wrist closed and settled his forearms on his lap. He couldn’t look at Spike now that he knew the secret that the blonde had been keeping from him. “When did it start? How long has it been going on?” 

Spike opened his eyes and looked at Angel, momentarily confused by the questions. His muzzled brain acknowledged that Angel was speaking and sounds were coming out. With a little more concentration he understood “How long has it been going on?” 

“How long has what been going on?” Spike asked perplexed. 

“How long have you been fucking Buffy?” Angel bit out as calmly as he could manage. 

“How did you --?” 

“Answer. The. Question. Spike,” Angel enunciated. 

“A few months,” Spike replied. “It didn’t mean anything. I was pissed at you. I haven’t been with her since I came back down here. It’s not like we’re in a long distance relationship.” 

Angel mentally calculated ‘a few months’. “You were with her around the time we went to the ballet?” 

“A bit before I think,” Spike said. His mind was in a haze of pain to say anything else but the truth. Not that he could remember the exact day and time Buffy had first come to him. It was clear, though, that Angel had used the opportunity of his recovery to slip inside his mind and see things that he never wanted his mate to know. 

Angel continued to stare at his folded hands, afraid to look at Spike. Here he was worried about Wesley’s betrayal of him in handing Spike over to Holtz when he should have been paying attention to his own mate. How had he missed it? Wasn’t that equivalent to the Ninth Circle of Hell, reserved for people who betray those closest to them? 

“I gave myself to you completely. Doesn’t that mean anything?!” 

“We were possessed, Angel!” Spike countered his voice hoarse with the effort to hold up his own part of the rising argument. 

Angel finally looked at the vampire glaring at him from the bed. He would find it funny that they rarely got along for any length of time, if he weren’t so hurt and angry at his mate for sleeping with someone who Spike himself considered to be the enemy. It still boggled his mind how Spike and Buffy, of all people, ended up in bed together. There were moments in Colorado that he was so sure he felt more than lust and century-old familiarity from Spike. Before today, he was sure it was something more with Spike. But now . . . at this moment . . .? 

“I still remember everything. I don’t know about you, but I don’t regret it!” Angel’s voice was harsh and rose in volume. “If I did, I would have knocked you out when I was coherent again!” Angel stood up with a growl and paced the floor at the end of the bed. 

Spike watched him as he moved to sit up. Lying down wasn’t the best way to face someone you’re arguing with. It gave the other person more of an advantage. 

“What did you want me to do Angel? You sent me back to Buffy, to _help her_! After I had laid myself out to you, offered all I was, gave you everything I had. But still, Buffy came back and **_I_** got sent away. It was **_me_** you were supposed to need by your side for eternity,” Spike stressed. The healing wound in his chest hurt like hell from the strain of making his case, but he refused to succumb to the pain. “So, I helped her. She was drowning, Angel. She needed something to give her a connection and I was it. It was cheap and nasty, but it was what she needed to bring her back, to make her feel!” 

Angel threw his hands in the air, frustrated, “So your solution was to fuck her because you thought I didn’t need you? You think I _enjoy_ being separated from you? Do you think I _relished_ the idea that I had to give you up when she came back? You’re mine **_beyond dust_**. I haven’t been with _anyone_ since I let you go to look after her. Yet, _you_ gave your body to someone else. Do I have _anything_ left that’s a part of you, aside from your scorn?” 

“You have everything, Angel! But Buffy is always more important than either of us, isn’t she?” Spike challenged. “Doesn’t soddin’ matter what either of us needs, does it? We’re only vampires, but she’s the true slayer.” Spike’s eyes blazed with anger. “She’s _not that pure_ , my dear Sire. So, go on, bloody well get out of here! I know just how to fix this disaster of a relationship: I am getting out of both of your lives. I’ve had enough.” He jabbed a finger at Angel, “ ** _You_** can look after the bloody bint. I’m fed up with picking up your emotional mess.” 

Seconds after that last comment left Spike’s lips, Angel leapt on the bed, his hands clutching Spike’s arms as he forced the blonde vampire to look at him. “My emotional mess? Do you think I still have feelings for her? Are you that fucking blind? Every emotion **_I have_** is invested **_in you_** , damn it. I gave you everything. I wanted you to have it all. I tried to keep you safe. I let you back into my life. I let you be a part of my work, shared my friends, my home, my bed and my body. And you think this is about her? It was about payback!” 

Angel released Spike with a growl and stood up again, pacing the floor as he spoke more to himself than Spike. “Even after all we’ve been through, you’re just as selfish and impetuous as you always were. **_I_** may be selfish when it comes to you . . . or Drusilla. But I don’t care about Buffy. Not like you think I do. She’s the only _free, active_ Slayer keeping the world from going to Hell. That’s as far as my interest lies with her anymore.” 

“Oh, yeah, I come first, do I?” Spike sneered. “Then as soon as Buffy’s back, you send me away. We were in this very bed when I made it clear that I wanted to be with you here in L.A. with a team that accepted me. But no! You sent me back to Sunnyhell to look after the bloody Slayer! You’re lucky I only fucked her and didn’t kill her!” 

When Angel turned and looked at him, there was a dead silence. A pin could have dropped and the echo be heard as they stared at each other. Angel’s expression looked as if Spike’s words had delivered a final crushing blow. His eyes were vacant as he looked at the vampire to whom he was mated for the rest of his life. When he spoke, it was a near whisper void of emotion. “I’ve tried everything I can to show you how I feel about you. I don’t know what else to do Spike. If this is what you want: to hurt me, to make me pay for my decisions. Fine. I won’t beg or plead. I’ll do what you want. Once you’re well enough to make it on your own, you can leave and I’ll stay out of your life.” 

Spike stared in shock as Angel turned and walked away. Angel’s hand was on the knob of the outer door leading to the hallway when he spoke again. He didn’t look at Spike. He couldn’t see anything past the haze of despair and the shattered remnants of the relationship he had with the one person who knew him better than anyone, just as he knew Spike better than anyone. This wasn’t just a break while they took time away from each other to cool down. This was more permanent. 

“You know where I am if . . .” Angel felt his throat close up and had to swallow the lump that threatened to choke him. “See you around, Will.” 

Angel walked out on a stunned Spike, closing the door quietly behind him.


	28. Chapter 50-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17 Warning: Angel/Fred sex in this chapter for future plot purposes.

 

##  _Chapter 50-A: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 17)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

It had taken nearly two weeks for his body to heal. Two weeks in which he never saw Angel. After his mate all but physically threw him out of the hotel, Angel hadn’t come anywhere around him. Apparently, the elder vampire found somewhere else to sleep that was all the hell away from Spike. Fred was the one who showed up with a new supply of blood bags. She never said anything. But then, knowing her as Spike did, she probably didn’t think it was her place to. 

Oh well, being away from Angel gave him time to think about his life. With his anger towards Angel’s behavior, he knew his own demeanor wasn’t something to write home about. His actions had gone and mucked it all to hell. But, what did Angel expect him to do? The bloody ponce kept tossing him at Buffy. A bloke could only take so much before he cracked. 

He honestly did want to be Angel. He didn’t care for Sunnydale or the Scooby gang. He only slept with Buffy to get back at Angel. There was no love lost between him and the Slayer. The team here was his family more than Buffy and her merry band of rugrats ever were. Cordelia and Fred were like sisters to him. Gunn was a comrade in arms. He’d reserve his decision over how to feel about Wesley when the gnawing pain in his healing chest subsided. 

He was mated to Angel. He had to find a way to show Angel that he wanted to stay with him and not be shipped off to Sunnydale every time he turned around, some way to demonstrate that he was a vital part of the L.A. team as any of the other members. 

Spike climbed out of bed and dressed in his normal black attire. He packed a duffel bag and penned a note before he left the room and snuck out the back way, watching for Gunn or Fred until he made it safely to the basement and down the sewer tunnels. 

*******************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

Fred watched through the window as Angel sipped from a mug of blood, seated at the desk in what used to be Wesley’s office, now reclaimed. He was essentially doing busy-work, looking through old case files. 

“It’s funny. Well, sad, actually . . .” Fred commented. Gunn stood next to her, leaning on a mop. “I keep expecting to find . . . what I mean is: it’s weird seeing Angel sitting at that desk.” 

Gunn shrugged. “It was his when I got here. It seems right that it’s his again.” 

“Yeah, but things have cooled down a little since . . .” Fred started to say. “I’m just saying that maybe it’s time to . . . Look, he doesn’t have to forgive Wesley.” 

Gunn snorted at that idea. “Glad you think so, ’cause that ain’t happening.” 

“No,” Fred agreed. “You’re right. He shouldn’t. But . . . isn’t there some way to, I don’t know . . . come back from this?” 

“Not unless Wesley can go back in time and tell Spike he was walking into a trap, or further back when he started meeting Holtz behind Angel’s back, or even further back before Slutty the Vampire Layer put her moves on Spike. And even then, Angel would probably kill him on principle.” Gunn and Fred had gotten the summary version of what happened between Angel and Spike and Angel’s reluctance to sleep in his own suite. 

“Y—you don’t really think that,” Fred said, “Do you?” 

“He set Spike up to be killed,” Gunn replied. “It’s probably best we never mention Wesley or Spike’s name again.” With that he walked away, mopping the floor in the opposite direction. 

Fred looked at Gunn’s retreating back then back at the office where Angel was thumbing through files from the ‘cases pending’ pile. Gunn may be able to dismiss Angel’s feelings towards Spike and Wesley, but she couldn’t let it go so easily. Squaring her small shoulders, she marched into the office and shut the door. 

“Angel?” she asked tentatively. 

“Half of this scrawl I can’t even read,” Angel mused aloud. “What is this? Frizzana? Frizzle-cat?” 

Fred walked around the desk and read the name over his shoulder. “I think it’s Frzylcka. Oh, right. They’re that demon couple who called last week about a squatter in their lair. Wesley was supposed to –” Angel’s low growl made her stop. She had said the forbidden word Gunn warned her never to say around Angel. Chastised, she added softly, “It was supposed to be taken care of.” 

“Maybe you and Gunn could get on that then and stop hovering over me wondering if I’m going to snap at any moment and accrue a body count,” Angel suggested. 

“But Angel, can’t you just talk to Wesley and tell him that he can come back to work?” Fred hedged carefully around the question. 

Without looking up from the file, Angel stated succinctly, “If Wesley so much as steps foot through that door I will put a bolt between his eyes without the aid of the crossbow.” 

“But, Angel . . .” Fred beseeched. 

“Drop it, Fred.” 

“Well, you can at least check on Spike. You haven’t seen him in two weeks!” Fred insisted. 

“NO!” 

“Don’t dare act like you’re the wounded party! If you hadn’t been pushing him to watch after Buffy and telling him to go back to Sunnydale, none of this would have happened. Spike only slept with _your ex_ when you gave him no other alternative. What was he supposed to do, Angel?” 

“He was supposed to make sure she didn’t die on the Hellmouth and help her battle evil. He was _not supposed_ to make sure she was _well fucked_ while he was up there!” 

“You don’t think he feels bad about that?” Fred asked plaintively. 

“Spike is soulless, he doesn’t feel anything,” Angel snapped. He could have bitten his tongue clean off for that lie. Spike felt more than any vampire Angel knew. Spike never lost his humanity when he was turned. Inwardly, he chalked a point up in Spike’s column for possibly feeling remorse after the fact. But, Spike went into his affair with Buffy knowing exactly what he was doing and was cognizant of the consequences to his actions. 

“That’s a lie and you know it! Spike has been up there by himself for weeks wallowing in shame for what he did to you. The least you could do is go up there and acknowledge him after all the crap you put him through!” Fred said angrily. When Angel didn’t move, Fred shouted, “NOW MISTER!” 

Angel looked up from his file. “Can I at least finish this paperwork first?” 

“No. You are going up there and you’re going to talk to Spike,” Fred said as she snatched the folder from him. “Gunn and I will take care of the Frzylckas.” 

Fred had that look in her eyes. The one that said her mind was made up. Apparently being around the AI team gave her some much needed confidence. But did she have to order him to talk to Spike? He would have talked to him eventually, in the next two decades or so. Maybe it was Cordelia’s influence that ruined the cute, mousy demeanor Fred once had. 

“Okay fine,” Angel sighed. He left the room and trudged up the stairs. He did not look forward to this discussion. He tried to avoid it for the past two weeks. What could he and Spike possibly say to each other that could reconcile what Spike had done? Sure, he sent Spike to Sunnydale to babysit the Slayer and dropped Darla, Cordelia and Fred on his doorstep to look after, but did that entitle the other vampire to _fuck_ Buffy? Where in the **_Mating Rule Book_** did it say: ‘ _Babysitting a Slayer really means take her to bed when you have a falling-out with your significant other_ ’? 

Angel rapped his knuckles on the door as he opened it. The room was dark and there was no sign of Spike anywhere. He walked into the bedroom only to find the rumpled sheets on the bed, but no Spike. Panicked, Angel checked the adjoining bathroom. No one was there. He checked the closet and found only the barest minimum of clothing hanging on Spike’s side as well as his precious duster in the back. A duffel bag and Spike’s dagger – the one he used the most and liked to keep within reach – was gone, which meant that Spike left on his own and wasn’t kidnapped by Wolfram & Hart’s goons. 

_Where the hell could he have gone?_

Angel was set to rip the bed apart in frustration when a slip of paper fell out of the pile of sheets. He plucked the page off the floor. ‘ _ANGEL_ ’ was written in Spike’s Victorian scrawl across the outside of the thrice-folded paper. Angel opened it and read the brief note inside. 

>   
> _Angel,_
> 
> _I can’t live like this anymore. Something has to change for the better. I remember telling you once that demons don’t change. But you have since proven that they can. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Spike_

Time seemed to slow to a stop with each line he read and he sank heavily to the bed. Spike had really left him, to prove what exactly? What was he supposed to do now that Spike was gone – possibly for good? What did Spike’s absence mean to their Mate-Claim? How long had Spike been gone? When did he leave? He couldn’t have left more than a couple of days ago at most because Angel had seen Fred take his blood up to him then. Where could he have gone? 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

Lorne put a book in a box of Wesley’s items that sat on Cordelia’s desk. “How’s it coming? Are you making any headway on that pending file pile?” 

“Some, sort of,” Gunn replied noncommittally. 

“There’s just so much to keep track of,” Fred added. 

“Still, it’s times like these, it’s good to keep busy. Throw yourself into work. Stay active,” Lorne was beginning to sound like a motivational speaker. 

Fred saw him glance up the stairs. “He and Spike are supposed to be working things out.” 

“Well, I hope they resolve things soon, we’re going to need all the help we can get with two people gone,” Lorne said. 

“Might be safer just to leave them alone for a while,” Gunn suggested. “I’m pretty sure the rage has passed, but do you really want to find out firsthand?” 

“I’m sure he’s not planning to kill Spike . . .,” Fred swallowed fearfully, “Or finish what he started at the hospital.” 

“Only ’cause Wesley’s too smart to show his face around here again,” Gunn said. 

Suddenly, the front door burst open. They all turned to see Cordelia and the Groosalugg walk in. They both were dressed in tropical attire, tanned and rested. Cordelia had a sombrero in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. 

“We’re back!” she said cheerily, “And we’re bearing gif—” she trailed off upon seeing the grim expressions on Gunn, Fred and Lorne. “What happened?” 

**************************

**_Angel’s Suite_**

Angel stood at the open French doors that led out to the balcony. The room was empty, as was the bed he had once shared with Spike. Angel leaned his head against the wall staring numbly at Spike’s note that lay on the bed seeming to mock him, reminding him of how empty his life was now that Spike was gone. There were cracks in the walls left from the earthquake, but Angel had been too bent on revenge the last few weeks and ignoring his mate that he didn’t bother to fix them. 

He didn’t acknowledge the door to the hall opening. He didn’t look to see Cordelia walk into the room, unafraid. Instead he continued to stare at the note. He barely registered when she walked over and gave him a hug. She stepped back when he didn’t return the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “The guys told me about everything downstairs.” 

Angel was sure they didn’t tell her _everything_. He hadn’t been downstairs since he found the note that told him Spike was gone indefinitely. 

“Where’s Spike?” 

_Now there was an excellent question._

Angel’s only response was to point at the note lying on the bed. Cordelia went over, picked it up and read the few lines. Angel hung his head and stared at his feet crossed at the ankle. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, looking every bit the image of a chastised boy. 

“He left without a word as to where or why?” Cordelia inquired. 

“It’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about it,” Angel mumbled. 

**************************

**_A Demon Bar in Los Angeles_**

Spike sat at the bar with a glass of human blood in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. He poured the liquor into the blood, put the bottle down and took a slow sip. 

“Does it help the taste of the blood or the alcohol?” a voice asked behind him. 

Spike set the glass down as he looked over his shoulder and saw Lilah Morgan behind him, impeccably dressed as usual. He turned back to his glass, not bothering to acknowledge her presence. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” He looked over to see her sit on the barstool beside him. “I suppose this is an equal opportunity bar for all soulless creatures, or just evil-bitch lawyers out to fuck with my Sire?” Spike asked before taking a drink. 

Lilah cringed at that. “Ouch. Harsh words from someone who was just kicked out of the team.”   
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Miss Morgan. Being banned from the team is more Wesley’s thing,” Spike replied. “I left on my own. Besides, I don’t have the stomach for solicitors. I just came here for the drink and then I’m off.” 

“I saw Wesley’s motorcycle out back,” Lilah said conversationally as if she hadn’t heard the brush off. 

Spike scoffed. “He’s lucky I only nicked the motorcycle for what he did to me. What is it you think you can get out of me? Angel Investigations secrets? Angel’s deep, dark past?” 

“We have all that,” Lilah with a smile that failed to reach her eyes. “I just thought you looked like you needed a friend. No one should ever drink alone.” 

“You may think you do,” Spike said dismissively. “When I have sunk so low that I need an enemy for a drinking companion, I’ll call Wesley. At least, I understand why he wants to stab me in the back. You, on the other hand, have an ulterior motive. And as pissed as I may be at my Sire right now, I don’t feel the need to twist the knife in his back anymore than necessary.” 

“Why, Spike, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a heart,” Lilah taunted. 

“Surprising, considering your lack of one,” Spike shot back, taking another drink. 

“So, what was it that drove you out of the circle of the Good ’n Plenty’s?” Lilah asked. 

Spike gulped down the last of his drink and slapped a couple of bills down on the bar to pay it as he spun around on the barstool. “I’m not going to be of any use to you. Try Wesley. Goodnight, Lilah.” 

He managed to make it several feet when she called out, “Where are you going to go now?” 

Spike slowly turned around and looked at her over his shoulder. “You’re the one with the law firm full of connections, you tell me.” With that he disappeared into the throng of people. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Day_**

“It is my deepest wish to aid my princess in her time of need. I’ve brought her clothing and food for her shiv-roth with Angel,” Groo said as he followed Lorne around the reception desk. 

“Ah, the Vigil of the Bereaved,” Lorne remembered. “Almost forgot there was a word for it.” 

“This house is thick with sadness,” Groo said sadly and gestured to the box Lorne was carrying with him. “Is that why you are leaving?” 

“Me?” Lorne asked in surprise. “No. No, these are . . . they aren’t mine.” 

“They are Wesley’s then?” 

Lorne quickly glanced around to be sure no one heard the slip. “Groo, you might want to try to avoid saying that name around here.” 

In Angel’s reclaimed office, Fred and Gunn sat behind the desk facing Syd and Monica Frzylcka, a demon couple. 

“Wesley. That was it,” Monica was saying. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Monica – it wasn’t Wesley, it was Sherman,” her husband, Syd corrected. 

“Sherman?” Monica asked in disbelief. “You don’t even know any Shermans.” Addressing Gunn and Fred, she said, “It was Wesley, Irish fellow, right?” 

“He was English, you old bat,” Syd scoffed. “Whoever heard of an Irishman named Wesley?” 

“Do you see what I put up with?” Monica asked the couple in front of her. “Anyway, that’s who we talked to. Is he here?” 

Fred and Gunn shared an uncomfortable look before Gunn replied, “He’s . . . on sabbatical.” 

“We’re really sorry for the mix-up – We’ll take over from here,” Fred added. “Now, it says in your file that you have a squatter in your lair?” 

“Damn no-good Skench demons. They’re all alike,” Syd shook his head in despair. 

“Here we go again,” Monica shook her head at having to hear her husband complain again. 

“A person spends his entire half-life --” Syd started to explain. 

“—Building a lair to relax in --” Monica recited the same argument she’s heard since the Skench moved in. 

“—and what happens? A Skench demon squats --” Syd continued. 

“—right down on your coffee table,” Monica finished. Giving Fred and Gunn a world-weary look, she said, “Ask me how many times I’ve had to listen to this.” 

“Like you ever listen,” Syd grumbled. 

“And you have so many interesting things to say,” Monica jibed. 

Feeling uncomfortable as if they were intruding on an intimate moment, Gunn hurried to interject, “So Skenches. I’ve heard about them. Sort of an impish kind of demon – like a leprechaun?” 

Syd scoffed. “Leprechauns don’t exist, son.” 

Monica reached over and patted her husband’s hand. “Now, Syd, don’t embarrass the lad.” 

“Sorry, kid,” he said gruffly. 

“Skenches take over a house, right? Drive out the people who live there?” Gunn asked. 

“Well, God knows you can’t stay, what with the shrieking all night and the projectile phlegm,” Monica replied. 

“Only thing worse is putting up with her for the last three hundred years,” Syd commented. 

Fred was amazed. “You’ve been married for three centuries?” 

“Ever since the mitosis,” Monica replied. 

“Not that I’d mind being a single-celled organism again, if you get my drift,” Syd said pointedly to Fred. 

“Oh, shut up, Syd. You never --” Monica grumbled. 

“—had it so good,” Syd finished, “as if I needed to be reminded.” 

“I thought getting rid of a Skench was pretty easy though? Don’t you just lop off its head?” 

“Well, sure, if you can avoid the phlegm,” Syd cringed at the idea. 

“Syd has a phobia about phlegm,” Monica filled in. 

“I do not,” Syd said disgusted. “I have a phobia about sputum.” 

“ ** _Okay_** ,” Gunn emphasized. “I think we got everything we need. I’ll get right over there and clean out your Skench problem today.” 

The Frzylckas got to their feet and Fred walked them to the door. “Thank you so much for coming. We’ll call you as soon as it’s done.” 

“You can call me anytime, sweetheart,” Syd said. 

“Oh, for crying out loud, Syd – that girl’s not a sixteenth of your age,” Monica berated her husband. “Put your eyes back in your head. I meant it, you doddering old coot! Put them back in!” 

As their bickering trailed off, Fred turned to Gunn with a grin. 

“Man, do you hear those two?” Gunn chuckled. 

“It’s beautiful,” Fred said wistfully. Gunn did a double take and saw the dreamy look on her face as she continued, “All that time and they’re still in love. The way they finish each other’s insults, it’s so . . .” 

Gunn couldn’t help but smile. He loved the way she saw things. He found himself agreeing, “Beautiful.” 

The doors between the office and reception area opened and Groo popped his head in. “Is there evil to vanquish?” 

“Gunn walked past him and headed for the entrance doors. “Thanks, bro, but I got it. There’s just a little mucus demon under Alvarado and Clark. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Don’t forget your machete!” Fred reminded him. 

Gunn turned and smiled at her. “Yes, dear.” 

Groo watched Gunn collect the aforementioned weapon and leave. “He is very fortunate to have such a woman looking after his weapon.” 

“I’m not touching that one,” Lorne said as he carried the box of Wesley’s things into the office and put it behind the desk. “There we go. Probably best to keep this stuff out of sight, just in case . . .” He checked his watch. “Anyway, I got to run. I have a reading in Topanga Canyon – figured it’d be a good time for house calls, considering the vibe around here.” With that, Lorne moved to leave, but then turned to Fred with a gesture towards the stairs. “You know if he needs anything --” 

“I’ll call,” she promised. 

He nodded and left. Fred looked back at the desk and the box under it. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, St. Patricia’s Hospital_**

Wesley lay in bed with a bandage on his throat, staring into the distance. He ignored the soft knock at the door thinking it was a nurse or orderly. Fred walked in with his box of items. 

“Hi, Wesley,” she said. At the sound of her voice, Wesley looked over. She set the box down in a chair. “How are you feeling?” 

Wesley reached for his throat and shook his head. He still couldn’t talk. 

“Oh,” Fred said. “But it’s not permanent, right?” She came closer and gestured towards the box. “I brought some of your stuff from the office. Things there are . . . well, things.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Gunn and I found your notes about . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say Spike’s name. “The prophecy. You sent him out without warning and he was nearly killed. All because you thought he was a danger to Angel. You were trying to protect Angel. I understand that. What Angel tried to do to you was wrong, and I’m sorry. But he was right to blame you, Wesley. You should’ve come to us. You should have trusted us. Instead you went to Holtz behind our backs. You were supposed to be Spike’s friend and you put him in danger. Holtz could have killed him. If Angel sees you again, he’ll kill you, Wesley. This time for real. Don’t come back to the Hotel. Ever.” She turned to leave but then stopped as she reached the door. “The prophecy was a fake. Spike was never going to hurt Angel. The only thing it did was make matters worse between them.” 

Fred hurried out of the room, the door closing with a click of finality behind her. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Cordelia lounged on her chair, one leg slung over its arm, reading half-way through her book. Angel sat on the floor against the wall that separated the bedroom and sitting room, staring at the bed. 

He’d been in the same position for the longest time, gazing at the bed. In his mind’s eye, his time in that same bed with Spike played out like a movie reel. All the times they were together. The sex, the laughing, the time Spike was doing first-aid on him after Boone beat the hell out of him and he tossed Spike into bed, rolled over and went to sleep, leaving Spike hard. Or the time they lazed in bed discussing which shower to install while teasing each other. The laptop still lay on the nightstand on Spike’s side of the bed. 

Angel’s gaze dropped to his lap. He still considered which side of the bed was Spike’s. He’d been ignoring his mate for two weeks and yet still considering this their room and that bed theirs. It had been three days now and Spike still hadn’t returned to the hotel. He still hadn’t called. He must really believe his Sire wanted him gone. Angel had spent all that time healing Spike from what Holtz had done that it was shock when he saw the memories of Buffy. 

There were so many times since then that he wanted to call Buffy for an explanation, to yell at her and ask her what she thought she was doing fucking his mate. Spike was his. She fucked him to feel again. That’s what Spike said. She was using him as a convenience. He didn’t know how to feel about Buffy anymore. Their relationship was dead and over. The situation left him feeling betrayed. There was a lot of that going around. Wesley was another one that betrayed him. But to know that Spike . . . 

“He was a mousy young man when I first saw him.” 

Cordelia looked up, amazed that he even spoke. He didn’t look at her as he continued. He just stared at the bed, speaking his mind. 

“I had told Drusilla to find herself a playmate and she chose him. She called him a brave knight. She saw something different in him. I found her in the barn with him. She had just drained him. I had to show her how to turn him. He wasn’t quite dead yet. He opened his eyes. They were the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Drusilla has exotic, dark blue eyes. But Spike’s were just the purest blue color. I was lost then and there.” 

Cordelia quietly closed her book, not wanting to break the spell. She sat up and listened to him. 

“After he woke up, Drusilla brought him to me. He was haughty and had a stiff upper lip. Victorian upbringing was still there. It took him years before he lost the upper-crust accent and adopted the British cockney. We were going to be the best of friends. That’s what I told him. When I realized Drusilla couldn’t raise him, I took him as my own in a Sire-Claim. And then I was cursed and Darla kicked me out. She wouldn’t have anything to do with me and wouldn’t let me stay long enough to tell them goodbye. After a while it just seemed easier to let them think I had abandoned them. It took us a century to find each other again. I don’t just mean physically. You can go through life knowing someone and never be with them. But we became a part of each other’s lives again when he showed up looking for the Gem and I reclaimed him. He became a necessary part of me. It’s more than just the telepathic connection that developed. I could close my eyes and feel him inside me. It made me feel whole. He knew all my faults. I knew his, or at least I thought I did. My existence began and ended with him. And I guess it’s my fault that it happened, right? I kept pushing them together. All I wanted to do was keep him safe from Wolfram  & Hart and Holtz. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing with Buffy.” 

“All he ever wanted was to be with you, Angel. He willingly said yes to being mated to you. For someone like Spike to agree to something like that, to give themselves over to another person entirely the way he did. That says a lot in how he felt about you,” Cordelia said quietly. 

“You live as long as I do and eventually you start to think that you’ll never find anyone. Then I was cursed and I knew I would never find love. Who would care that much after all the evil things I’ve done. William even with all his emotions and wearing his heart on his sleeve, he followed me. He tried to mimic everything I did, trying to keep up with as many evil deeds, though he barely had the stomach for a majority of it. He never had the stomach to torture someone like Angelus did. Spike was more about fighting to the victim’s death, fists and fangs. He loved the brawl before the end. That’s what got us kicked out of nearly every city we went to. He would have mobs chasing us. And then years passed by, and you think you know something about living, ’cause you have this really long past. And that’s really all you have, in my case anyway. Then you wake up one day and you realize that you’re mated to this other being that looks like the Statue of David – all angles and planes and sculpted body. Perfect. He was perfect and I made him. I taught him how to be a vampire. I taught him how to fight and survive. He’s mine for an eternity. And now he’s gone, because I ignored him and pushed him away into the arms of another woman. I’m at a loss as to how to get him back.” 

Cordelia nodded as she listened to him. She didn’t know what to say anymore. Spike would come back on his own, maybe. If there was one thing she knew from watching the two vampires, it was that they couldn’t stay away from each other for long. There was too much between them. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Outdoor Café in Marathon Park_**

Fred and Gunn sat at a table. Fred was surrounded by the spoils from her day: Department store shopping bags, a big stuffed bunny with a banner around its neck, a cardboard crown on top of her head and a Dodger Pennant, among other things. She was a little overwhelmed by it all. 

“Now, for our next item of pleasure,” Gunn said, snapping a newspaper open, “We got movies galore. You pick – hey, do you want to go to the twelve plex, hit the previews in every theater? It’ll be like seeing a year’s worth of movie all at once.” He looked at her and saw her queasy expression. “Is there something wrong with the shake? It’s your favorite, double mocha, double whip.” 

“I’m . . . kinda full,” Fred said uneasily. 

“Oh my God, this is serious,” Gunn mocked teasingly. 

“It’s just . . . Sixth Street tacos, fish sticks at the Pier, Dodger dogs . . .” Fred’s stomach was churning just from the thought of what she’d eaten today. 

Gunn grinned. “Don’t fold on me now, girl, we still got a lot of fun to go today.” 

“Oh . . . I’m for the fun . . . it’s just we have too much more of it I might explode,” Fred was feeling squeamish. 

“Right, sorry,” Gunn said as he pulled her shake and hot wings away. “No more food – but movie, club, shopping fun still to be had – want to go to the roller rink?” 

“Charles, I think I’m kind of wiped,” Fred protested. 

“Oh,” Gunn said, finally understanding. 

“It’s just we’ve been having so much . . . fun today. Don’t you think we should save some, before we use it up and all the other people get sad . . . ’cause we took all the happy?” Fred asked uncertainly. 

Gunn’s expression fell listening to her ramble. “Oh God, I blew it. I tried too hard.” 

“No,” Fred shook her head. “It’s been the most beautiful, wonderful day ever – aside from the hurly-burly and the knot in my tummy. Being with you is always special. It’s just . . . it’s not like we have to cram the rest of our lives into one single day.” She put her hand on his, asking, “Right?” After a moment Gunn looked down at the table. That gave her cause for concern. “Oh my God.” He looked up at her tone. “You _did_ try to hard. You haven’t been yourself all day. You’re doin’ all this because . . . because something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong.” 

“Fred, no . . .” Gunn started to say. 

“Charles,” Fred said, taking a deep breath for the courage to ask, “Do you have leukemia?” 

He looked bewildered for a moment, stunned that she’d even think such a thing. Then, he actually burst out laughing. 

“Don’t laugh at me, Charles! I see it on the news all the time. They’re young and in love, their whole lives ahead of them when tragedy strikes --” 

“I’m not sick,” Gunn cut in. 

“Oh thank God,” Fred said breathing a sigh of relief. “I feel better. Except for the terrible knot I’ve had inside all day – which is not the food – it’s . . . us. What’s wrong with us?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

His tone worried her even more. “That helped.” 

“Maybe we should just go back to the hotel and call it a--” he started to say. 

“And maybe we should stay right here and you should stop lying to me,” she demanded. She tried to calm herself before continuing, “I know something’s wrong. Just be honest and tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.” 

“No, we won’t,” he said coldly. 

Fred was taken aback. “What?” 

“This isn’t something we’re going to talk through, you share your feelings, I share mine, and then we’ll hug,” Gunn stated. 

“I don’t think I like the way you’re talking to me,” Fred shrank away from him. 

“Too bad,” he said harshly. 

“Why are you . . .” Fred tried her best not to break down and cry. She’d never known Gunn to be so cruel. “Why are you being so mean?” 

“I’m being honest. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Fred summoned her strength and said as flat and cold as Gunn sounded, “Yeah, be honest. Is it me?” 

“Wow, you finally figured that one out,” Gunn said sarcastically. 

Fred swallowed the lump in her throat and willed herself not to cry. “What – what’s wrong with me?” 

“Now I got to make a list?” Gunn sneered. “I really don’t have that much time.” 

“Are you joking?” Fred dared to ask even though the look on his face told her he was being completely honest with her like she asked. “Charles, what’s happening?” 

“What’s happening, girl, is that you and me are over. Done!” 

“No --” Fred was starting to feel the dam burst as her world crumbled before her eyes. 

“Am I asking? I’m telling. I’ve had enough,” Gunn bit out. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Then it’s best you start,” Gunn said as he got up to leave. 

“But . . . wait . . . is there someone else?” Fred asked tentatively. His only response was to give her look that turned her blood to ice. “What . . . what’s her name?” 

Towering over her, Gunn said, “Her name is ‘I’m a real woman, not a stick figure.’ Get the picture?” Fred looked up at him, tears that she couldn’t hold back any longer streamed down her cheeks. When it didn’t seem like she would answer, he barked, “Speak up!” 

“Yeah,” she replied in a small voice. 

“Good! See you around,” Gunn said and walked away. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Cordelia had left Angel alone to go find some dinner and spend quality time with Groo. Angel had finally gotten up off the floor and was sitting on the bed. It was big, cold and empty without Spike there. He didn’t know if he could sleep here again. Maybe he could find another room. There were sixty-six of them left. Surely he could find one that didn’t have haunting memories of Spike in them. 

Suddenly, he heard a soft sobbing coming from outside his door. His brows furrowed in confusion as he got up and went to the door. Opening the door, he thought it sounded like –- 

Fred stood there, trying to stifle her sobs without much success. When she saw him, she burst into hysterical crying. “I’m sorry. I was going to knock but I knew it wasn’t a good time so I didn’t but I don’t know what else to do.” She began to sob harder. 

“Fred, what is it? What’s wrong?” Angel tried to sound concerned. He wasn’t exactly coherent since he was still dealing with his own despair over the past week. 

All Fred could do was hiccup through the crying. She couldn’t put a voice to what had transpired between her and Gunn. Angel reached out and shut the door behind her. He led her over to the bed and sat down with her as she hugged him. He held her shaking body and let her cry into his silk shirt. 

“He broke up with me for no reason,” Fred said. Angel couldn’t make any of it out with her racking sobs. 

“Fred, shhh, sweetheart,” Angel whispered. “It can’t be that bad.” 

She pulled back and looked at him with teary eyes. “It-it-it’s worse! He said-said-said I wasn’t a real woman, that I was a stick figure.” 

“Shh.” Angel put a finger to her lips. He stopped and stared at his finger on her lips. They were soft. Her lips parted when he pulled his finger away. One moment he was wallowing in his own pain, and the next Fred was there, her body soft in his arms. A small part of his mind told him not to follow through with what his body was demanding. His body was telling him to ignore that nagging bit of conscience and take the solace she begged for and offered in return. He needed something else other than his own problems to focus on. He needed to forget even for a little while. 

Angel leaned closer and pressed his mouth against Fred’s lips. For a moment, they both were stunned. Then, Fred’s arms slowly slid around his neck and she let out a shaky breath against his mouth. He broke the kiss to see if she was retreating. When she didn’t, he sealed his lips over hers again. She pressed herself closer to him. His fingers skimmed along her arm, moving around her back as he lowered her to the bed. 

**************************

**_African Village_**

A full moon shown through the trees as the echo of pipes and drums filled the air from a desert village made up of grass huts on sand. A group of African women sat gossiping around a fire. Spike, dressed in black from head to toe, strode between the huts. He passed an African man walking the other way. 

Ignoring the man’s warning, Spike continued on his way with a determined expression. Another villager tried to stop him, giving another warning in an African language. 

“Not asking for permission, mate,” Spike replied in English as he headed for a cave. The man yelled behind him but didn’t follow him. 

Spike entered the dark cave. He slowed down to gain his bearings. It was nearly pitch black in the cave. He dug his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. There were paintings on the walls: images of people with their faces in pain, bodies with blood pouring out of them and defleshed skulls. A nervous chill ran down Spike’s spine as he looked at them. One of the paintings depicted a black figure holding out an arm toward another figure which was red and dripping blood. A breeze blew out the lighter. Spike looked at it with a half a thought of flicking it on again, but instead closed the lighter and pocketed it. He moved deeper into the cave. 

“You seek me, vampire?” a deep gravelly voice said. 

Spike was nervous, but did his best to cover it. “Did you do the finger paintings? Nice work.” 

A seven-foot demon moved in the darkness. All Spike could see of him was glowing green eyes. 

“Answer me, vampire,” the demon ordered. 

“Yeah. I seek you.” 

“Something about a souled vampire,” the demon stated. “The demon that made you.” 

Spike nodded. “He kept giving me an unwanted duty until I took advantage of the situation and the bastard kicked me out. He has the idea that he’s the only one allowed to make mistakes.” 

“And you want to show him what you really are?” the demon asked. 

“Yeah,” Spike replied. 

The demon let out a horrible, evil laugh. 

“What are you laughing at, pillock?” Spike growled. 

“Look at what you’ve been reduced to, vampire.” 

“It’s my bleedin’ Sire that did this to me,” Spike insisted. 

“You were a legendary dark warrior, and you let yourself be claimed and mated to a souled vampire. And now, you have the audacity to crawl in here and demand restoration?” 

“I’m still a warrior,” Spike said. 

“The demon that made you was right to turn you away. You’re a weak, pathetic excuse for a demon. If you had stayed with him all this time, you would have gotten one or both of you killed.” 

“Yeah? I’ll show you weak and pathetic. Give me your best shot,” Spike challenged. 

“You’d never endure the trials required to grant your request,” the demon taunted. 

“Do your worst, demon. But when I win . . . I want what I came here for,” Spike said. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Fred kissed Angel through her tears, her cheeks wet and gritty from crying. Angel trailed kisses to the edge of her mouth and licked the wet tracks off her cheeks. He hovered over her and then settled between her thighs. When he shifted his attention to her neck, she laced her fingers in his hair and arched against him. His hand found her breast and teased the nipples to hard pebbles through her shirt. His hand moved down her back to slip inside the back of her jeans and pulled her up against his erection. 

This was different than having sex with Spike. There were the obvious indicators: female anatomy instead of male. It wasn’t just that though. He was erect, but not painfully hard like he was around Spike. This was more about seeking solace and numbing painful memories in someone else’s arms and less about passion and lust. There was no all-consuming need to possess Fred like there was with Spike. 

Fred felt desperate. She was trying to rip his shirt off while grinding against his groin. Angel could feel her heat through the layers of clothing. Fred had worked the buttons open and he shrugged out of the shirt before she could tear it. He deftly unfastened her jeans and pulled the zipper down. He reached up and pulled her shirt and bra strap off her shoulder and down far enough to tease her nipple with his mouth. Then, he moved back down to slip his hand inside her pants and tease her clit with his fingers. 

Fred’s body arched when his fingertips brushed her clit. She tried to wriggle out of her jeans without losing contact with him. She pulled her jeans down her hips and moved up the bed until she lay back on the pillow. Realizing her motive, Angel sat up and pulled her shoes and pants off, tossing them over the edge of the bed. Then, he crawled up the mattress and met her in a kiss. 

She reached between them and started to work on his pants. Managing to get them open, she shoved them and his boxers down his hips. Angel helped her remove the last of his clothes. Grabbing her around the waist, he rolled over onto his back with her on top of him as he kissed her, tracing his tongue along the shape of her mouth. When she returned the kiss, he rolled her onto her back and eased inside her. 

Fred whimpered as she felt him slide in. She’d caught a glimpse of the size of his erection. Seeing it was one thing, feeling it was a different matter. A thought of how Spike could possibly handle it flashed through her mind. However, the notion was fleeting and vanished when Angel started to move rhythmically into her. 

She had dreamed of this moment from the time they brought her back from Pylea. Angel was the man she compared all men to. He was her savior. The white knight on a great horse saved her from the monsters. He protected her. Even now as he drowned in his own misery, he was here. The least she could do in return was rescue him from his own despair. 

Fred looked up at him when he levered himself above her, taking some of his weight off her as he shifted and suddenly she saw stars. She opened her mouth on a moan of satisfaction when he continued to rub against that spot that made her stomach flutter. Then his mouth was on hers again as he thrust deeper. 

Over the years, she had heard Angel and Spike together – not that she was eavesdropping – and, from what she heard, it didn’t sound like they were all that gentle towards each other. But, this experience with Angel was radically different from what she heard. The sensation was overwhelming. Everything around them seemed to fade away. It could have been two minutes or two hours before she shuddered against him in ecstasy. Her cry of release was quickly muffled by a kiss as the orgasm rushed through her body. Her skin became over-sensitive to touch. She was at the crosshairs between needing to feel him and wanting him to stop. Every nerve sparked electricity, vibrating all the way down to her toes. 

**************************

**_African Village_**

Spike stood in the dark cave, wearing only his black jeans as he paced. The shadowy demon watched him. Most of the demons that come here never leave, alive anyway. That this one entered on a foolish notion was laughable. The demon would give the vampire points for determination. The vampire in question was now pacing a rut in the cave floor after listening to the primer of what was to be expected of him. 

“You understand then?” the demon inquired. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike said. He was already bored with this. From what he remembered of the Trials that Angel went through to try and save Darla, there wasn’t this much talking involved, at least Angel never said so. “It’s not like you haven’t been clear about it, oh great mysterious one. This is a test. I don’t get what I want unless I pass said test. Is that about the size and shape of it?” 

“Yes,” was the simple reply. 

“And since your pad is decked out gladiator-style, and no number two pencils have been provided . . . I guess we’re not starting with the written,” Spike surmised. He looked around the cave nervously. What the bloody hell had he gotten himself into? Why couldn’t he have picked something simpler to prove that he wanted to be with Angel, like say saving a damsel from a mugger or a rapist? 

Spike heard someone walk up behind him and turned around. The man in front of him appeared to be human, a very large and muscular. “Oh, here we go then. Just me and the walking action figure. I’m venturing this would be the kill-or-be-killed type of situation, then?” 

“To the death,” the demon confirmed. 

“Right,” Spike muttered to himself. He faced his opponent with a sense of anticipation. “Here we are now. Entertain us.” 

The bodybuilder held up his fists and smacked his forearms together. Suddenly, both hands burst into flame. 

Spike looked alarmed and then it sank in. This was worse than Angel’s trials. “Son of a bitch.” 

The bodybuilder punched Spike in the head and knocked him down. The man punched him again. Spike scrambled backwards in an attempt to get away from his opponent to think of the best way to deal with this new obstacle. He’d never fought a man with flaming fists before. Before he could clamor away, the man picked him up and tossed him against a wall. He slumped down to the ground and wiped the blood from his mouth. He was already sporting a large burn on his chest and various other places from where his opponent had hit him. 

“Had enough?” Spike taunted as he pulled himself to his feet. 

The bodybuilder punched Spike again. Spike stumbled backwards and ducked behind a large pillar. He came out the other side and took a swing. The bodybuilder ducked and punched Spike again. Spike reeled against a wall and bounced back with some jabs of his own. When the man tried to punch him again, Spike grabbed his opponent’s fist, flames and all. He winced in pain but held on, and then shoved the man back with a strong push. 

“Bad move, bad move, bad move,” Spike chastised himself as he nursed his injured hand. 

He ducked another punch, grabbed the bodybuilder’s arm and flipped him over onto his back. Spike kicked him in the groin while he was down. Then, flipped him over on his stomach, Spike straddled his shoulders and twisted his head violently, breaking his neck. 

Spike stood up and let the body drop. “Looks like local boy loses,” Spike panted. 

“So it would appear,” the demon said. 

“Good on me, then. I get what I came for. I passed, right?” 

“Indeed,” the demon agreed. “You have passed the first stage of the test.” 

“Right, I get . . .” Spike paused. “Wait. First stage?” He should have known it wouldn’t have been so easy. The demon just stared at him. “Bugger.”


	29. Chapter 50-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17 Warning: Angel/Fred sex in this chapter for future plot purposes.

##  _Chapter 50-B: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 17)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Angel lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Fred was curled up along his side with her head on his shoulder, looking extremely sated in her sleep. Angel caressed his fingers along her back as he contemplated the last few hours. He definitely wasn’t happy about what had happened. He also knew he couldn’t fault Fred for that. He should have stopped it before it began. Now here he was. Spike was God knew where and he was in bed with someone else. 

“This was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened,” Angel spoke to the room. All that came back was mocking silence. 

Fred murmured in her sleep and shifted to a more comfortable position. Her eyes blinked open and it took a moment to figure out where she was. Her eyes widened when she realized how she got there. She had come to tell Angel about what happened between her and – 

“Charles!” 

Angel looked at her in confusion. Not exactly the name he was hoping to hear after sharing the most intimate experience with a woman. Though, he’d been called worse things by Darla, Drusilla and Spike after sex. 

“What about him?” Angel asked curiously. 

“I think he’s in terrible danger,” Fred said anxiously. 

“What makes you think that? Did you have a nightmare or something?” 

“No. He broke up with me,” Fred said. 

“Yeah, I got that part. That’s how we ended up here,” Angel commented. 

Fred looked down at the sheet that covered her bare body and Angel next to her, equally naked. This was a huge mistake. What was she going to say to Charles? How could she face him again? How could she face Spike if he returned? Then there was Cordelia, Lorne and Groo. 

“Oh God,” Fred said as she scrambled out of bed, taking the sheet with her. She frantically searched for her clothes. Angel watched her mimic an acrobat as she tried to hold the sheet up and put her underwear on at the same time. “Oh God, Charles can’t know about this. What am I supposed to tell him? How can I face him knowing that I . . . that you and I --” 

“Had sex for four hours,” Angel filled in as he sat up, reached for his pants and pulled them on. 

“Oh God,” Fred despaired as she paced the room in her bra and panties, trying not to trip on the sheet finally wrapped around her torso. She was trying not to look while Angel got dressed. 

“Look, Fred,” Angel started to say as he buttoned and zipped his pants. “Gunn doesn’t need to know anything about this. Cordy doesn’t need to know. Spike’s long gone to parts unknown by now. We can keep this a secret between us.” He finished putting on his shoes. He went around the bed and drew her into a platonic hug. It felt awkward after having just made love to her not twenty minutes ago. After a few uncomfortable moments, he drew back and asked, “Now why do you think breaking up with you means Gunn’s in trouble?” 

“Because he didn’t really break up with me,” she said. 

“Oh, but I thought you said he said --” 

“I know I said he said those things to me,” Fred cut in. She touched her forehead afraid that a headache might be coming on. It may have sounded like Gunn had broken up with her but . . . “He would never say those things to me.” 

“Those things you said he said?” Angel asked confused as hell. It felt like he was talking to a mime. Everything that’s come out of his mouth so far was aped by the other person. 

“Exactly! That’s how I know he’s in trouble!” Fred insisted. She pulled away from him and gestured with her hands as she explained, “Don’t you see? He hurt me! And the only reason he’d do that is to protect me from something! And whatever it is, it’s gotta be bad because . . . this hurts like hell.” 

“Okay, Fred, okay. We’ll gather the team and help him. We’re not losing another member of this family. You just get dressed and meet us downstairs.” He squeezed her shoulders gently and kissed her forehead. “Everything will be okay.” 

With that he grabbed a clean shirt, shrugged it on and left the room to look for the others. Fred heaved a deep sigh and started to pull her clothes on. 

**************************

**_African Village_**

Inhuman screaming, screeching and fists hitting flesh could be heard in the deepest recesses of the cave. Suddenly an object went flying out of a tunnel and rolled across the ground. It was the head of a demon with pointed ears. Spike strolled out of the darkness bare-chested and bruised, holding other parts of the demon. 

“Well, that was a bloody doddle and piece of piss,” Spike commented as he threw the body parts at the demon overseer’s feet. With a sneer, he asked, “Got any more ruddy tests for me, you ponce? I’ll take anything you can throw at me, if it’ll get me what I need to deal with my Sire.” He sniffed angrily. “So, go ahead, bring it on. Bring on the whole --” He should have known he spoke too soon when he heard a skittering sound. “Bloody hell.” 

Suddenly, a swarm of black beetles started crawling up his body. They scurried up his chest, neck and face as he squeezed his eyes shut and grunted in distaste. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_**

“There’s still no answer at his place or his cell.” 

Cordelia hung up the phone as Groo, Angel and Fred, who was now dressed in a new shirt and jeans, joined her at the reception desk. 

“Oh God,” Fred said anxiously. 

“This does not bode well,” Groo said, stating the obvious. 

“Okay, then we’ll have to split up,” Angel suggested. 

“To cover more ground,” Groo elaborated with nod. “That is a good plan. I agree.” 

“Fred and I can hit Gunn’s old gang haunts, see if maybe they’ve heard from him,” Angel said. He didn’t look at Fred when he issued the idea, so he didn’t notice the guilty look on her face as she looked to see if anyone else read into what he’d said and piece together what happened between them. 

“Or if they know of any old enemies he might have,” Cordelia added. 

“Exactly. Cordy, you and Groo go by Gunn’s place, just to make sure he wasn’t injured,” Angel suggested. 

“Maybe we could report his truck as stolen,” Cordelia thought aloud. 

“It’s not a terrible idea to get the police involved if none of this pans out,” Angel agreed. 

“We should leave a note here for Lorne, let him know what’s going on,” Fred said as she grabbed a pen and a message pad. 

“If none of us come up with anything, we’ll regroup back here at midnight and --” Angel started to say. 

Groo held up a business card. “And perhaps as we search, we could leave these small rectangles behind us – as did that creature that came by yesterday inquiring after Gunn.” 

“Right, good,” Angel nodded and then Groo’s words hit him. “What?” 

Groo handed the business card over to Angel. “Small rectangles with telephonic digits . . . as a way for people to get in touch with us should they learn anything.” 

“Somebody came by here looking for Charles?” Fred asked apprehensively. 

Groo nodded. “Yesterday. Please remind me to give that rectangle to Gunn when we find him. I am confident we shall.” 

“The guy works for Jenoff,” Angel said as he read the name on the card. 

“Who’s Jenoff?” Cordelia asked. 

“The soul sucker,” Angel replied as he retrieved his coat and a weapon. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Jenoff’s Casino_**

Two demon bouncers dragged away the corpse of a guy in a track suit as Gunn stood with a Repo Man and watched as Jenoff descended the stairs, flanked by his bodyguards. They moved through the crowd towards Gunn. The vampire hunter stood motionless as Jenoff stepped up with an ugly sneer. 

“Charles Gunn,” Jenoff addressed. “I’m impressed. Not a lot of guys come in through that door of their own free will – not the second time, anyway. She must be pretty special, this girl you were getting ready to give my merchandise to.” 

Gunn scowled. “I’m here to make good on my debt. You don’t even talk about her.” His lips thinned in anger when Jenoff seemed amused. “Once we’re square, you don’t even think about her --” 

“ _She_ was never part of the deal,” Jenoff commented and then order the Repo Man, “Hold him.” 

When the man went to grab him, Gunn turned on him and threatened, “I’m not going to run. But touch me and you’d better.” The man backed away as Gunn looked at Jenoff. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Jenoff raised his hand and was inches away from sucking Gunn’s essence out through his eyeballs when suddenly the door was kicked in and Angel came through wielding a battle axe, followed by Groo carrying a sword, Cordelia and Fred. 

Three demon bouncers immediately attacked the group. Angel hit the first demon in the stomach with the handle of his axe, slugged the second demon in the face. The third demon met up with Cordelia’s mace, before he collapsed on the floor. 

Fred burst through the chaos, spotted Gunn and called out, “Charles!” 

“Fred?” Gunn’s first instinct was to go to her, but another bouncer restrained him. 

Another demon made a leap for Fred, but Angel knocked it back with his axe in mid-air. As the team moved further into the casino, the demon patrons circled around them. 

“Angel . . .” Cordelia prompted worriedly as she saw the sheer number. 

“I know,” Angel replied. 

“We are surrounded,” Groo pointed out. 

“I know,” Angel said agitated. 

“We have to save Charles!” Fred cried. 

“I know!” Angel growled in exasperation. He reached out and grabbed a demon around the throat and held him in a headlock, ready to snap his neck at any moment. “Who’s a guy got to kill to talk to the boss around here?” 

“I’m the boss,” Jenoff said as the crowd parted to let him through. Behind him, Gunn came forward, followed by the Repo man. “Mind telling me why you’re disrupting my business?” 

“Actually, it’s you who’s disrupting my business,” Angel countered. “You’re about to deprive me of a very valuable employee. Charles Gunn there,” Angel nodded in the direction of Jenoff’s captive. “He works for me.” 

“A good business man looks into the backgrounds of potential employees,” Jenoff instructed. “Had you done that, you might’ve learned that he was strictly short-term material.” 

“Then I’ll make a deal with you --” Angel offered. 

Jenoff raised an eyebrow in interest, though he didn’t know what the man in front of him had to offer that he could possibly want. 

“You release him, forget what he owes you – and I’ll let you live,” Angel said menacingly. 

Jenoff appeared to consider the offer. “Thank you. Turning to his bodyguards, he said, “Kill them.” He started to walk away and let his henchmen have the interlopers when he heard – 

“Double or nothing!” 

Jenoff stopped in his tracks and looked back at Angel. He raised a hand to stop the converging demons. “Are you offering me your soul?” 

Angel shrugged. “A chance to win it anyway.” 

“How stupid do I look to you? You’re a vampire. I can smell it from here.” 

“Take a bigger whiff. I’m a vampire with a soul.” 

Groo, Cordelia and Fred looked shocked at Angel. They weren’t expecting this turn events to happen. What were they going to do if Jenoff ended up with Angel’s soul and they were left with a soulless Angel? 

Jenoff studied him for a moment. “Oh. You’re _that_ vampire.” 

When it looked like he was interested, Angel laid the stakes. “I choose the game. I win, we walk out of here and Gunn’s debt disappears. If you win, you get us both.” 

“You have a deal,” Jenoff said ominously. 

Hearing the terms of the deal, the demonic patrons started taking bets on who would win. Angel sat at a vacant gambling table shuffling a deck of cards one-handed. He was beginning to feel confident for the first time since Spike left. Cordelia, Fred and Groo stood behind him, warily watching Jenoff’s smug expression across the room. 

“Brilliant stall tactic, bought us some time,” Cordelia said. “Now what’s the plan?” 

Angel gestured with the cards. “This is the plan.” 

Cordelia glanced over at Jenoff, already seated at the High Roller’s table. “Really?” 

“Really,” Angel replied. “We’re going to win Gunn’s soul back.” 

Across the room, Gunn was held hostage near the High Roller’s table by a demon bouncer on either side of him. He glanced at Fred but couldn’t hold her gaze. He was ashamed he’d gotten them all into this predicament. 

Fred turned to Angel. “This is so wrong in so many ways. I mean it isn’t money or a stuffed bunny Angel’s playing for. It’s my _boyfriend_.” 

Angel cringed inwardly as she reminded him of what they’d done. It wasn’t more than an hour ago they were engaged in the biggest mistake he’d ever made – scratch that – one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made, and she was already referring to Gunn as her boyfriend again after crying on his lap – never mind, not going there again. He’ll just win Gunn’s soul back, Fred will go back to him and he can go back to his misery over Spike leaving him. 

“Fred, I understand you’re nervous. Don’t be. I’ve been around a long time. I’ve played a lot of cards and won a lot of bets,” Angel assured her. 

“See, that’s where we’re different,” Fred said anxiously ringing her hands. “I tend to get lost and lose things. And I can’t lose Charles.” 

_Why not? I lost Spike and I’ve been just great at handling it – barricaded in my room and sulking where I should have been earlier instead of drowning my depression in your body only to have you worried about the guy who dumped you because he made a irreversible deal with his soul that I now have to pay for with my own – probably._

Angel looked at Jenoff and reassured Fred, “I’m not going to lose.” 

Groo scanned the casino, watching the demons. The room was abuzz with wagers placed on the impending game. He stepped up to Angel. “Angel, if we must rely on luck, I prefer the odds of my sword. We should fight our way out.” 

Angel shook his head, “Got to disagree, Groo. Fighting puts all of us at risk. My way’s safer.” 

“ _If_ _you win_ ,” Fred panicked. “But if you lose your soul, won’t you go evil and start killing everybody – including us?” Addressing Cordelia, she asked, “Am I wrong . . .?” 

“Well, you’re not wrong in theory, but I got to go with Angel on this one. Sorry,” Cordelia replied. 

Angel saw Jenoff motion him over. He nodded and turned to the trio behind him and assured them, “I’m going to win.” He started to walk off as he reached under his jacket and pulled out a stake. Handing it to Cordelia, he instructed, “If I lose . . . you know what to do. Just make it quick.” 

“You know I will,” she said, taking the stake from him. 

The crowd parted for Angel and his team as he walked through to sit down next to Jenoff. Cordelia, Fred and Groo circled around him while a dealer stood nearby. 

Gunn watched the table as the Repo man stepped up behind him and cheerfully said, “You know, Jenoff lets me have the bodies when he’s done with them.” 

Gunn glared at the man but the bouncers held him in place so he couldn’t attempt to beat the smug bastard to a pulp like he was itching to do. 

Jenoff held up a hand and the last-minute betting stopped and everyone got quiet. Addressing Angel, he said, “One hand of cards. If you win, this man,” he gestured towards Gunn, “walks free. If I win, I keep his soul, and I get yours.” 

Angel nodded confirming the terms of the deal. The team – including Gunn – watched apprehensively. 

“Name your game,” Jenoff continued, “Omaha, Texas Hold ’Em, Seven Card Stud . . .?” 

Angel looked from Jenoff to his dealer who held a deck at the ready then looked back at Jenoff, “How about a simple cut of the deck? High card wins.” 

Impressed with the choice, Jenoff commented to the amusement of the patrons, “Vampire’s not only got a soul, he’s got guts.” Jenoff nodded to the dealer who shuffled the cards and set the deck on the table. “Feeling lucky?” 

“After you,” Angel said. 

Jenoff smiled, reached out, made his cut of the deck and turned the card over, revealing a five of clubs. 

A murmur rippled through the room. Jenoff’s smile faded at the possibility that he could lose this game and his merchandise. Cordelia, Fred and Groo all breathed a sigh of relief. Angel still had a fighting chance. Fred glanced over at Gunn. He gave her a hint of a smile. 

Angel liked the odds. He was moments from victory. He raised his fingers to his lips and blew on them for luck. He cut the deck and turned the card over to reveal the three of hearts. 

“A three?” Angel looked at the card in disbelief. Spike left him and now this? What the fuck? Did the Powers That Be hate him that much? 

With his soul hanging in the balance, Gunn couldn’t believe it either and echoed, “A three?” 

Jenoff’s smile returned and became wider. “A three! You lose.” 

Angel’s eyes locked with Cordelia’s as she raised the stake. She appeared to aim for Angel’s chest, but instead slammed it into Jenoff’s hand, pinning it to the table. Angel almost wished she had plunged it into his chest as Jenoff roared in pain. 

“Was that quick enough?” Cordelia inquired. 

“Works for me,” Angel grabbed his axe and swung it at Jenoff, cutting his head off. 

The room was engulfed in stunned silence as Jenoff’s head rolled across the floor and his body hit the table. Yellow blood spilled from the neck onto the felt tabletop. The group looked around to see what the demons would do in retaliation, but the only thing that happened was a mad exchange of money as the demons settled their bets. 

Gaining a second wind now that his soul wasn’t much of an issue anymore, Gunn swung around and smashed the Repo man in the face with his fist and sent him crashing into one of the many slot machines. 

When he turned back to see Angel, Fred rushed over and hugged him. Tucking her under his arm, he prompted, “Angel . . .” 

Pleased with himself, Angel addressed the room, “It’s over. No need to say thanks.” 

“You’re right,” Gunn scoffed. “If killing himself was that easy, I would’ve done it myself.” 

That sobered Angel up. He looked at the table to see the yellow blood percolate as something began to grow out of the neck of Jenoff’s headless body. The body sat up as a new head emerged. It’s larger, slimier and more grotesque than the previous one. The mouth opened and let out an ear-piercing shriek. The group raised their weapons, ready to attack. 

“Now we fight . . .?” Groo asked. 

They had to find a way out of here quick. Angel looked back at the other demons. “So, who else in here owes this guy?” 

Realizing they were better off with Jenoff dead, the demons turn en masse and attack the casino’s owner. The group snuck out the back as the patrons ripped Jenoff apart. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Night_**

Gunn and Fred sat in his truck outside the hotel. He had taken her back to the hotel himself so that he could spend time with her and figure out what he could possibly say to make it up to her for the way he had ended things the last time they saw each other. 

“Say it again. A little slower this time,” Fred teased. 

Gunn leaned closer and slowly enunciated, “I was terribly, terribly wrong to break up with you and say those mean, untrue things.” 

Fred basked in the apology. She hadn’t thought much about what happened between her and Angel since she got Gunn back from Jenoff. She didn’t want to think about her moment of weakness when she was with Angel and had the fleeting thought that they should have ended up together. It was an impossibility that she couldn’t afford to dwell on. Angel had promised her that what transpired would stay between them and no one else would know. She had to be satisfied with that and put it out of her mind. 

“Good,” Fred held out her hand as if she were holding a microphone. “Now say it into the tape.” 

Gunn gently took her hand in his. “I’m _really_ sorry and I’ll _never_ do it again.” He sealed the promise with a kiss to her hand. 

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” Fred said solemnly. 

“I’m only all right if you and me good,” Gunn replied. “We are, aren’t we?” 

Shaking the last memory of being with Angel out of her mind, Fred nodded. Gunn smiled, leaned over and gave her a kiss. 

“Just one last thing,” Fred prompted. 

“Name it.” 

“Who did you trade your soul for?” 

In was a long moment before Gunn answered. “It was a long time ago . . .” 

“I know. But I want you to tell me and we’ll never talk about it again,” Fred promised, feeling her stomach churn at what a hypocrite she was. She was never going to tell him what she did when she thought he’d broken up with her for good. “Who was she?” 

Uncomfortable with the turn of conversation, Gunn pulled away and put his hands on the steering wheel. 

“Charles . . . ?” 

“It was way before I met you,” Gunn said defensively. 

Fred slid closer to him. “You must have wanted her pretty bad to trade your soul. Just tell me.” 

“You’ll think it’s stupid.” 

“I won’t,” she smiled. 

“It was a truck,” he blurted out and then looked at her. “Happy now? I was seventeen years old and I sold my soul for a truck.” 

“Not this truck,” Fred said in disbelief. 

“Don’t go dissing my girl,” Gunn shot back. 

“Oh, Charles,” Fred chuckled. “Your soul wasn’t worth air conditioning?” 

“Look, back in the day this truck kept me alive,” Gunn explained. “It helped me save other lives too. I know it sounds dumb, but a soul didn’t seem like such a big deal. I didn’t think I had a future then.” He looked into her eyes. “Now I do.” He leaned closer and kissed her, soft and sweet. 

“What is it about you that makes me melt?” Fred asked breathlessly. 

“Maybe it’s that I love you?” Gunn grinned. 

“That’s got to be it,” she agreed and leaned in for another kiss. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Cordelia and Groo were filing away paperwork when suddenly Cordelia cried out and fell to the floor with a vision. There were flashes of Holtz, Justine and Angel, followed by a bit of their past encounters and Holtz wounding Spike and finally of what was to come between Angel and Holtz. Groo abandoned the files and rushed to her side to comfort her. 

“I-I-I got to go. I have to find Angel and warn him,” Cordelia said after she recovered. 

Angel had left earlier saying he needed time alone away from the hotel. Luckily, he mentioned going to the bluffs before he left. Groo helped Cordelia to her feet. She asked him to stay behind while she went in search of Angel and left the hotel. 

When he was alone, Groo pulled a duffel bag out from behind the reception desk and walked out of the hotel without so much as a look back. 

**************************

**_Point Dume_**

The waves rolled up the beach and crashed against the rocks of the cliff. Angel pulled his convertible up to the metal pillar with engraved letters reading ‘POINT DUME’ in the side. He got out of the car with a sigh and sat on the edge of the engine hood looking out over the surf. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

Cordelia drove down the crowded freeway honking her horn at the car in front of her and then pulled all the way from the right, across the middle and into the left lane. 

“Slow poke!” Cordelia yelled at the driver. “I’m in a hurry. It’s a matter of life and death!” 

**************************

**_Point Dume_**

Angel looked out over the vast ocean wondering where Spike was now. What was he doing? Did he miss him? Was he coming back? Was he in trouble and possibly hurt again? Angel pulled out his cell phone to see if he could figure out his voicemail and find out if Spike had left a message. He flipped it open and began to dial, but the phone slipped out of his hand and tumbled down the side of the cliff. 

“Damn it,” Angel cursed as he watched it descend helplessly. “I hate those things.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

As Cordelia raced down the highway, she began to glow from the inside. 

“Oh, no! No, no, no! Not now!” Cordelia whimpered. This was so not the time to be glowing. 

White light streamed out of the car windows as she pulled across traffic and onto the left shoulder while everything around her slowed down and came to a stop. Once the glow faded, Cordelia looked around and saw that the other cars and drivers seemed to have been frozen in time. That was never a good sign. 

**************************

**_Point Dume_**

Angel stood at the edge of the cliff looking down into the dark abyss where his phone had disappeared. Suddenly, there was a crunching sound. Angel turned around only to see Holtz appear out of nowhere. 

“Holtz? How did you find me?” Angel asked. 

“It wasn’t as hard as you might think,” Holtz replied. 

They stared at each other, waiting to see if the other would make a move. One minute there was several feet between them and the next Angel had closed the distance and had a hand around his throat. He pinned Holtz to the trunk of his car and started to slowly squeeze his windpipe. 

“You put my childe at death’s door,” Angel said menacingly. 

“I only wounded him severely which is less than you deserve. You murdered my child,” Holtz choked. 

Angel released his hold and stepped back. “I was different then.” 

Holtz reached up to massage his throat. “Yes. So was I. You feel remorse? You _think_ you feel remorse for what you’ve done to me and yet you can’t express it. I wounded your demon offspring. Did you mourn his impending loss?” 

“Is this your way of forcing me to apologize for what I was?” Angel asked. 

“For what you _are_ ,” Holtz corrected. “And the others you’ve made just like you.” 

“Why would I? It wouldn’t mean anything. It won’t undo the past. It won’t bring your family back,” Angel replied. 

“That’s true,” Holtz agreed. “It would mean very little. Not much at all, really, but it would be something.” 

“Fine then, I’m sorry. For whatever little it might mean. We’re even,” Angel sneered. 

Holtz lowered his hand. “We will never be even. You still have your demon spawn. I thought that by mortally wounding him I would have a measure of justice. But all I have is an empty ache gnawing at my insides.” 

“Hunting Spike down and fatally wounding him as you did was never justice. It was vengeance, pure and simple.” 

“Maybe vengeance is all I have left now. You cannot feel acceptable remorse for what you took from me and I will not apologize for maiming an abomination of God and man. However, you cannot retaliate in kind since you’ve already slain my family in cold blood,” Holtz said. 

Angel slugged Holtz on principle. Holtz touched his lip and came away with blood on his fingers. Suddenly, he launched himself at Angel. They both tumbled over the edge and down the side of the cliff onto the beach below. Angel shook his head to clear it before scrambling to his feet. He’d barely got to feet before Holtz barreled into him, knocking him down again. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

Cordelia got out of the car and walked over to look in the window of the car adjacent to hers. A woman sat in the driver’s seat, frozen in time in the act of fixing her lipstick. 

“Don’t be . . .” Cordelia jumped and gasped at a voice behind her, “Frightened.” 

“It’s a little late for that!” Cordelia admonished as she turned around to face her companion. 

“Sorry. Do you remember me? I’m . . .” 

“Yeah, Skip,” she finished. “You tend to remember your demon guides. What is going on?” 

“I think you know,” Skip said cryptically. 

“I’m dying?” she surmised. 

“No,” Skip chuckled. “No, you’re not dying.” 

“I’m not?” she asked skeptically. 

“Nope.” 

Cordelia punched him in the arm. “Say that part first!” 

“Sorry!” Skip said. “It’s not the end. It’s the beginning. You’re a great warrior, Cordelia. The battle that we’re all a part of is fought on many different planes and dimensions. You’ve outgrown this one. You’ve become . . . a higher being.” 

“Me?” Cordelia inquired in disbelief. 

“You. You took on the visions, and even when you could have traded them in for a happy, normal life, even when they were killing you, you wouldn’t let them go,” Skip explained. “The big test came when the Powers made you part demon. They bet the farm on you. Power corrupts and they gave you a lot of power.” 

“The glowy thing!” Cordelia said in wonder. 

Skip nodded, “Which you used well – to fight evil.” 

“And only that one time as a night light,” Cordelia added. When he gave her a quizzical look she replied, “Bad dreams. Skip, I don’t understand.” 

“I think you do,” Skip said. 

“It’s ridiculous. I’m just a somewhat normal girl who has visions, glows, and occasionally blows things up with her crazy new power.” Skip watched as she paced in front of him. “I’m a higher being?” 

“Yes.” 

“And when you say I’ve _outgrown_ this level that sort of implies . . .” 

“You’re moving on to a new one,” Skip finished. 

“Now I’m really scared,” Cordelia said apprehensively. 

“I know,” Skip replied. “But I also know you’re ready.” 

“Oh, no, I’m not,” she protested. She had things to do, places to be. She should be on her way right now to warn Angel about the vision she had. 

“Ah, the universe begs to differ,” Skip commented. “And deep down inside I think . . .” 

“Yes! All right,” Cordelia cut in. “Stop saying ‘I know’! Maybe I do know. _Maybe_ , if given enough time, I might even get _used_ to the idea, but --” she saw the telltale look in his eyes. “I don’t have enough time, do I?” 

**************************

**_Point Dume_**

Angel finally had the upper hand in the fight. He towered over a fallen Holtz. He had a grip on Holtz’s coat and was punching him in the face. Suddenly, he felt a jolt of electricity immobilize his body. Holtz had zapped him with a tazer to the side of his stomach. When Angel wouldn’t let go, Holtz slammed the tazer into his chest repeatedly until Angel released him and fell back into the surf. 

Holtz used the opportunity to jump on Angel and punched him in the face. A wave rolled over them and Angel used its momentum to roll Holtz over. He held Holtz’s head under the water for minute and then pulled him back up sputtering water. 

Holtz gripped the tazer and slugged Angel across the face with it. Angel toppled over and Holtz scrambled to zap him repetitively until Angel collapsed facedown in the water. Holtz struggled to get to his feet, pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and used it to signal a boat waiting off shore. The boat responded and moved closer to the shore. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

Cordelia and Skip stood in the middle of the road amid cars frozen in time. She still couldn’t believe that the Powers chose this moment when it was the most crucial to warn Angel about impending doom to make her a Higher Being. 

“No, of course not,” Cordelia said to herself more than Skip, “Why would the Powers give me time to warn Angel about something that may kill him? I’m on my way to . . .” 

Skip only stared at her, watching for her to come to the inevitable conclusion. 

“I have to warn him!” 

“What you’re being called to do is more important,” Skip said simply. 

“How is that fair? I can’t leave without telling him that the man that tried to kill Spike is also out to kill him! Why does this have to be now?” 

“There is work to be done in the higher realms, Cordelia.” 

“Can you at least warn Angel for me?” 

“Sorry,” Skip said sincerely. “That’s not allowed.” 

“Then I’m not going,” she sounded like a petulant child. “How can they do this to me now?” Then it finally dawned on her. “This is the last test, isn’t it?” 

**************************

**_On a boat, just off shore of Point Dume_**

Angel woke to the sound of a screw-gun. He found himself on his back inside a metal casket. Thick steel cables around his chest, abdomen, thighs and ankles bound him inside the box. Above him, Holtz and Justine were tightening the screws on the frame. 

“Holtz?” Angel inquired. 

The two of them ignored him. That left him with the option of listening to their conversation. 

“I told you I would do anything for you,” Justine said. If Angel didn’t know better, she sounded triumphant. “I’d follow you into hell if you let me.” 

“No need to go to such lengths,” Holtz said casually as if he strapped enemies into coffins and dumped them offshore every day. “After this, I shall finally be done with vengeance. I find the taste of it bitter and unsavory.” 

That comment left Angel perplexed. Why didn’t Holtz just stake him already? What did he hope to gain by tossing him in the ocean? Spike was no longer around. What did he have to live for anymore? If he knew he’d spend the rest of his existence like this, he would have staked himself after he read Spike’s brief note. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

“Cordelia,” Skip prompted. 

She turned around and looked at him. He tapped his left wrist as if to say that time was up. She had no choice anymore. 

“If I ever come face-to-face with those Powers That Be, we are going to have a big talk,” she said resignedly. 

“You’re doing the right thing,” he assured her. 

“I’m scared,” Cordelia admitted. “But I know it’s right. I know somehow it’s all going to be all right.” She sighed and looked at him. “What do I do?” 

“Just say ‘yes’,” Skip replied. 

“I already have.” 

Suddenly golden flecks of light surround Cordelia as she started to float up in a shaft of white light. 

**************************

**_On a boat, just off shore of Point Dume_**

Justine tightened the screws on Angel’s coffin. She glanced at Angel and for a split-second he thought he could see remorse in her eyes. But then they hardened and the glimmer was gone. He couldn’t read anything from Holtz expression outside of weariness and exhaustion. 

Suddenly, his captors were gone only to return a moment later with the lid to the metal coffin. Holtz and Justine slid it into place and then he was looking up at them through the wire-mesh and glass window that was conveniently positioned at head-level. Soon, Angel heard them slide two rods into place that locked the lid down. Justine welded them into place. 

Justine looked to Holtz for approval as they moved to one end of the coffin and pushed it off the back of the boat and into the sea. They stood together and watched as the coffin floated for a moment and then started to sink straight down, leaving behind a small trail of bubbles. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Pacific Coast Highway_**

Skip still stood in the middle of the highway full of vehicles that were stuck in time. He looked up at the sky and watched Cordelia ascend in the ray of light from the otherwise dark heavens until she was nothing but a speck of light that flashed out. 

**************************

**_On a boat, just off shore of Point Dume_**

Justine steered the boat away from the scene of Angel’s demise just as Angel’s coffin descended deeper into the abyss of the sea. She headed towards the beach but stopped about a hundred yards away before slowing the boat to stop. Letting the boat drift with the current, she walked back out to the end of the boat where Holtz slumped with his feet hanging over the side. 

When she was within reach, Holtz grabbed her hand and shoved the handle of an ice pick into it. Forcing her to hold the instrument, he brought her hand closer to his throat. 

“Don’t make me do this,” Justine cried, genuine tears sliding down her cheeks. “I can’t.” 

Holtz tightened his grip on her hand and the awl she held. “We already know you can. You promised me. You said you’d do anything for me. Come on, Justine. I’m not asking you to follow me into Hell, just help send me there.” 

Sobbing, Justine continued to shake her head in denial even as her fist – still covered by Holtz’s hand – stabbed him in the side of the neck. She had managed to nick his jugular vein. Holtz slumped over on her lap. It could have been a minute or an hour that she sat on the end of the boat and held her mentor. He was the person that taught her more effective ways to fight. She gave one hard shove and watched with a blank stare as Holtz’s body rolled off her lap and fell off the end of the boat into the ocean. She stared at the black water as the boat drifted on the current. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Gunn walked down the stairs to the lobby with his cell phone in hand. 

“Angel still hasn’t come back?” Fred asked. 

“No. What about Cordy?” Gunn inquired. 

“No. She’s still gone. Groo disappeared as well. Maybe Lorne would know . . . no, because Lorne doesn’t live here anymore. He left after Groo disappeared. Not used to that yet. I tried to get a hold of Cordelia but she isn’t answering her phone. Spike isn’t answering his either.” 

“I’ve been trying to reach Angel and he isn’t answering,” Gunn said, gesturing with his phone before pocketing it. 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Fred commented apprehensively as she looked around the empty lobby of the vacant hotel. “Where did everybody go?” 

**************************

**_Cave in the African Village_**

Deep in the darkness, Spike lay motionless on his back on the cavern floor, spent from the grueling combat he’d gone through the last several days. A pitch-black shadow moved across the wounded vampire. It was darker than the gloom of the grotto. 

“You have endured the required trials,” the demon intoned. 

“Bloody right I have,” Spike grumbled more to himself than to the demon. Slowly, painfully, he rolled over and pushed himself up onto his knees. His face was swollen and bruised. His chest and arms were no different, having sustained burns, lacerations and other multitude of injuries. 

“So you’ll give me what I want. Make me what I was. So that _Angelus_ remembers what he was mated to,” Spike said. It came out in a more derisive tone than he intended, but at this point he couldn’t care less. 

The demon’s eyes flared green. “Very well.” Spike watched nervously as the demon came closer. “We will return . . . your **_soul_**.” 

Spike tried to back away as the demon’s hand reached out towards his chest. But before he got two inches, his body jerked with the force as the demon’s hand touched his chest. His insides took on a fiery yellow-orange glow. When the searing pain became too much, Spike let out an ear-splitting scream until the demon released him and he collapsed, unconscious, on the ground.


	30. How to Treat Your Lover Book 3 Soundtrack Available

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 3/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6)  
> Summary – While Angel is dealing with Wolfram & Hart constantly attacking members of his team, Spike, still hasn't completely forgiven Angel for the events in Book 2 and is feeling bitter that Angel abandoned him. Meanwhile, Buffy is back from the dead and depressed after being torn from heaven by her friends. Together they start a relationship of sorts. None of them could have anticipated the widespread consequences of this destructive affair. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

Below is the front and back covers of the soundtrack for Book 3 of the saga. Cover art was created by me.  
  


 

  
  
  
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